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J UNITED STATES OF AMERICA J 



Lost and Found 



BY 



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REV. W:S:URMY, 



•joo*. 






CINCINNATI: 
HITCHCOCK AND WALDEN 

NEW YORK: 

NELSON AND PHILLIPS. 

1875- 



111 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, 

BY HITCHCOCK & WALDEN, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



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PEEFAOE 



No Parables of the New Testament are 
more instructive or more touching than 
those spoken by our Lord respecting the 
lost piece of silver, the lost sheep on the 
mountains, and the prodigal son. They are 
at once picturesque and pertinent; and it 
is upon these incidents, which may have 
been real ones, of Eastern life and man- 
ners, that the following pages are written. 
Lessons thus conveyed, where truths are 
taught in fable, and principles for life's con- 
duct are put into the form of a story, are 
more apt to be fixed on the memory. It 



4 PREFACE. 

was our Savior's favorite method of teach- 
ing, and it was used to good purpose by- 
Nathan in his reproof of David. 

This volume is designed for the young. 
They have many enticements to sin, and 
unless they become well settled in the 
principles of virtue in childhood, they are 
apt speedily to go astray, and to lose the 
best part of their lives, besides being in 
continual danger of losing their own souls. 
But how that which has been lost through 
accident, misfortune, or willfulness may be 
regained, the parables of our Lord, here 
retold, will show. By sin we are all lost; 
by God's grace we may all be recovered. 
That we may all use that grace and be 
the subjects of that recovery is the earnest 
prayer of 

THE AUTHOR 
Vallejo, Cal., June, 1875. 



Part I. 

the lost coin. 



FOUND. 



THE LOST COIN. 



CHAPTER I. 



Let us go to a far-off country. We sail 
for several days across the Atlantic Ocean, 
with its deep, dark waters, its varying 
weather, and its ever restless waves. Day 
after day passes wearily until, at last, land 
is espied, and we draw near a coast. We 
see an opening, and sail through a strait 
passing between two points of land which 
used to be called "The Pillars of Her- 
cules," and enter a beautiful blue sea 
which lies underneath a most delightful 
sky, and which was named "The Sea in 
Midst of the Earth." Sailing the whole 



8 LOST AND FOUND. 

length of this sea, we approach another 
coast, and prepare to land. 

There is a town before us, situated on 
quite a high hill, the soil about being quite 
sandy. The hill is so steep that the 
houses of the town look as though they 
were built on the top of one another, and 
the people have to go from one street to 
a higher one by means of stairs. 

This place is called Jaffa; but in olden 
times its name was Joppa. It is said to 
be a very old town — some historians saying 
that it existed before the Flood, and that 
it took its name from Japhet, the third son 
of Noah. But these are probably merely 
fables, yet they show that the town is very 
ancient. And, indeed, we know that it is 
as old as the time of the Exodus; for it 
was one of the towns mentioned by Joshua 
when he invaded Canaan, and took posses- 



THE COIN. 9 

sion of it in the name of the Lord. Here 
it was that the timber for the Temple of 
Solomon was brought in floats, or rafts, 
and landed, to be taken to Jerusalem. 
Here, also, Jonah went, wben he ran away 
from the Lord because he did not wish to 
go and preach to the Ninevites, a wicked 
people whom God threatened to destroy. 
Jonah. found here a ship going down to 
Tarshish, and, going aboard, thought him- 
self safe; but was thrown overboard, and 
swallowed by a great fish, perhaps a whale, 
as whales were then probably in this sea 
in great numbers; but it may have been 
another kind of fish, made by the Lord 
just at that time for this purpose. Here 
it was that Peter, the apostle, raised Tabi- 
tha from the dead, while the poor women 
who had received so much kindness from 
her stood about, showing the coats and 



10 LOST AND FOUND. 

garments she had made for them. Here, 
also, Peter dwelt with Simon, a tanner, 
and had the vision of the great sheet, or 
cloth, let down from heaven full of all 
kinds of beasts and reptiles, which he was 
invited to eat, to show him that all men 
were loved of God, and ought to have the 
Gospel preached to them. This town was 
destroyed a number of times in the wars 
which raged at different periods in that 
country, but was rebuilt as often. 

But now we must land; and we shall 
find it difficult, for there is no wharf here, 
and we must go ashore in small boats. 
The port is open, and the large waves roll 
in with great force, so that sometimes the 
boats are overturned and all in them are 
drowned. But we pass safely, and soon 
land on the shore, with only a little 
dampness on our clothing. We proceed 



THE COIN. 11 

through the town, and on the other side 
of it there are orchards and flower-gardens 
stretching away off for miles. 

As we journey on, we will try to think 
that we live in the times of the Savior, 
and that the roads and the houses and the 
trees and the people are all as they were 
when Jesus walked the earth, and saw with 
his sad eyes the country which he loved 
so much, but which he knew would soon 
be so desolate and barren. 

Here is a town, and through the narrow 
gate in the wall there are coming several 
people. We watch them with interest, 
and take notice that they are dressed in a 
very singular manner. Here is a woman. 
She is going the other way, and is dressed 
in coarse but clean clothing. She has 
a large, square shawl thrown over her 
shoulders, and the end of it drawn across 



12 LOST AND FO UND. 

her face, so that no one can see who 
she is. 

It is a strange house in which the woman 
lives. It stands on a back street in the 
town before us; and, as you come close to 
it, you see that there are no windows look- 
ing out on the street, but there is just a 
high, blank, white wall, with a door in the 
center. Should you open this door and 
look in, you would see nothing, as the 
passage-way turns square to the right, so 
that no one passing along the street, which 
is very narrow, may be able to look at the 
people who live here. As you go on 
through this narrow passage-way, you come 
to a pretty little square court. There are 
two beautiful palm-trees growing in this 
court, and in their branches some softly 
cooing, half-wild doves have made their 
nests, and are flying hither and thither, 



THE COIN. 13 

their wings glistening like silver in the 
bright sunshine. Between the trees there 
is a small flower-garden, with a few rose- 
bushes and lilies, and among them fragrant 
herbs which give forth a pleasant smell. 
Right by the side of the garden is a deep 
well, from which water is drawn by a long 
line tied to a skin bucket; and the woman 
sometimes draws the water and scatters it 
in brilliant drops all over the trembling 
roses ,and plants. 

As we stand in the court, we find that 
the doors of the house all open into it, as 
well as the windows, which, have no panes 
of glass in them, but are latticed ;. and 
when it is cold weather a curtain is let 
down on the inside. Right opposite the 
entrance from the street there is what is 
called the reception-room; but it is very 
poorly furnished; as is the rest of the 



14 LOST AND FOUND. 

house — showing that the people who now 
live here are very poor. There is a sort 
of raised platform running around the 
room, next to the wall, and on this are 
spread a few mats, with one or two coarse- 
looking pillows, and in one corner the 
dressed skin of some wild animal which 
has been killed not far away from the 
house. If we ascend a small staircase just 
to the right of the main entrance, we gain 
the roof of the house, which we find to be 
nearly flat. It is made by laying down 
rafters some three feet apart, and then 
placing across them small sticks. On these 
sticks has been placed a quantity of a cer- 
tain thorn-bush, and then a coat of mortar 
over that. On the top of the mortar earth 
has been laid, which is rolled smooth by a 
wooden roller, which is kept on the roof, 
and used after every rain. This house is 



THE COIN. 15 

in a country where rain foils only for a 
part of the year, say from the first of Oc- 
tober to the first of April, with fair spells 
between, or this roof would not answer to 
protect the people who live here. But in 
this climate it does answer very well; and 
then, being flat, it is good for other pur- 
poses also. In this country the weather is 
often very warm, and the people who live 
in the house find it is very pleasant to 
come on the roof, where they make a sort 
of booth or arbor; and thus, shaded from 
the sun, enjoy whatever breeze is blowing, 
as they could not by remaining in the 
rooms or court below. So, at night, there 
being very little, if any, dew, it is found 
to be a pleasant place to sleep; and, when- 
ever there is any thing going on in the 
town, it is a good place to take a look at 
those who are passing in the street. 



1 6 LOST AND FO TJND. 



CHAPTER II. 

Let us go down stairs, and see what the 
woman is doing. She is seated on one of 
the cushions in the reception-room, spin- 
ning wool with a strange sort of spinning- 
wheel, quite different from those which our 
grandmothers used to make such a grand 
humming with, yet good enough to pro- 
duce a very good quality of yarn. At the 
woman's side there is sweetly sleeping a 
pretty babe, with long, soft, black eye- 
lashes, and a transparent, brownish com- 
plexion, which contrasts strongly with the 
coarse but clean snow-white linen in which 
its body is slightly wrapped. The mother 
looks at it with fond admiration, and, as it 



THE COIN. 17 

moves its little fat arms, sings a low, soft 
lullaby, to soothe it to deeper rest. Then 
she spins on with a swifter motion; for 
what she is spinning is to make her lovely 
child a garment that shall protect it from 
the Winter's cold, which will soon chill the 
air and send the leaves of the trees sailing 
down to the hard earth. Now the wheel 
stops its humming; for the woman is in 
deep thought. Her eyes are fixed on va- 
cancy, and she does not heed the babe, 
w T ho seems just about to wake up. What 
can the woman be thinking about? She is 
a Jewish woman, and this country where 
she lives is called Palestine ; she is thinking: 
about one of the great yearly feasts of her 
people, and how pleasant it will be to go 
up to the city of the Great King, where 
the Temple is, and there, with her babe in 
her arms, rejoice before the Lord. There 



18 LOST AND FOUND. 

were three of these feasts, all held in the 
dry season, when the traveling was good. 
The first festival — that of Unleavened 
Bread, called also the Passover — took 
place in the Spring, the month Nisan cor- 
responding to our month April; the Feast 
of Pentecost, or of weeks, occurred just 
seven weeks after that of Unleavened 
Bread, on the fiftieth day, Pentecost mean- 
ing fiftieth. The last feast was the Feast 
of In-gathering, or of Tabernacles, in the 
month Tishri, or about our month October. 
It was to this last-mentioned feast that 
the woman thought of going, and she had 
been saving her money for the purpose of 
paying her expenses, and for buying an 
offering when she arrived at Jerusalem. 
She had labored hard and long to get the 
necessary amount of money, and she had 
told all her neighbors how glad she was 



THE CO IK 19 

that she could once more go to the feast. 
They seemed very much pleased, and con- 
versed much about the journey, and what 
troubles they should meet with on the 
road, and how greatly pleased they would 
all at last be to see the beautiful Temple 
in all its splendor on Mount Moriah. 

While the woman was thus thinking 
about the feast the babe awakened, open- 
ing its eyes, and uttering a soft, winning 
call for its mother, which recalled her 
thoughts to what she had been doing; and 
so, setting up the babe with a pillow behind 
it, she was about to commence her spin- 
ning again, when the thought struck her 
that she had better take a look at her 
purse and see if her money was all right. 

This purse was made of leather, and 
pretty well worn. As the woman opens 
the purse and pours out the money, we see 



20 LOST AND FOUND. 

that it consists of silver coins about as 
large as our dimes, though perhaps a little 
thicker. Some of them have on one side 
a three-legged stool, or tripod, such as 
those on which the spiritual mediums used 
to sit when they uttered their sayings 
which were called oracles; others have on 
one side the head of the heathen god 
Vulcan, who was supposed to have been 
made lame by being thrown out of heaven, 
and was thought to have his forge, as a 
blacksmith, in the volcano "Vesuvius. On 
the other side of the piece of money are 
two lighted torches. The coins were made 
in Greece, and were called drachmas, or, in 
English, drams — spelled sometimes thus, 
drachms. They were each worth about 
seventeen of our cents; but things were 
cheaper in this woman's day, and they 
would buy much more than seventeen 



THE COIN. 21 

cents would in our day; that is, about ten 
times as much. So that when w r e read in 
the parable about the laborers in the vine- 
yard, that they agreed to work for a penny 
a day, we are not to suppose that they 
only received the same as though they 
had been paid one of our copper or nickel 
cents, or even what was equal to an Eng- 
lish penny, which is worth nearly twice 
as much as ours, but that their wages 
amounted to something like one dollar and 
seventy cents, or, at least, a dollar and a 
the half; and this was quite good pay. So, 
two pennies, which the good Samaritan gave 
the inn-keeper for the board of the poor 
man who was beaten by thieves, was equal 
to nearly three dollars and a half, and was 
sufficient to keep him over two weeks at a 
country inn, where living was cheap. 
But we must return to our unfortunate 



22 LOST AND FOUND. 

woman, from whom we have wandered far 
away. She has just poured out the coins, 
and is counting them. As she comes to 
the last one a shadow seems to fall over 
her face ; for she finds there are only nine, 
when there should be ten. She counts 
them again, and still she finds there are 
only nine. Surely, one must be lost! 
And now she remembers that one day 
when the babe was quite fretful, and noth- 
ing seemed to amuse it, that she let it 
have the purse and the pieces of silver to 
play with, and that this was in the kitchen, 
one of the darkest rooms in the house. 
She is just going to the kitchen to seek 
for it, when there is a knock at the front 
door, and, on opening it, she finds a neigh- 
bor there, who has come to bring her a 
present of some nice, new butter, which 
she has just churned in the skin of a goat; 



THE COIN. 23 

for the people in that day knew nothing of 
the kind of churns which we now use, but 
would put the milk in a skin bottle, and 
swing and wring it till the butter came; 
and this is why the churning of milk could 
be mentioned as much like the wringing 
of the nose which "bringeth forth blood." 
(Proverbs xxx, 33.) 

The woman tells this kind neighbor 
about her loss, and says she is afraid she 
can not find the piece which is lost, and 
that will prevent her from going to the 
feast. This makes the neighbor feel sad, 
and she tells quite a number of the 
woman's friends about it, who also feel 
sad, and come one after another to inquire 
if she has yet found the coin. But the 
woman tells them she has not, and they help 
her; but all in vain. As it is getting to 
be dark, the neighbors all leave, one after 



24 LOST AND FOUND. 

another; and the woman is sitting alone 
and crying because she has met with so 
great a misfortune; for she is very poor, 
and it will take a long time for her to save 
another piece like it. 

As she thus sits, mourning her loss, the 
thought strikes her that she had better 
light a lamp and sweep the house. In 
one of the rooms there is a lamp-stand, 
two or three feet high, and on it a lamp 
made of brass, of a very strange shape, 
being in form like a man's foot. The top 
is open, and in the place where the big-toe 
should be there is a place for the wick. 
This wick is made of fibers of flax, twisted 
slightly; and the oil is that which is made 
from olives, and which we call sweet-oil. 
A very pure, fine kind of this oil was 
burned in the Temple, and the lamps in 
which it was burned were placed on the 



THE COIN. 25 

'golden candlestick — or, rather, golden 
lamp-stand; and these lamps were also 
probably made of gold, though no mention 
is made of their material in the Bible. 



26 LOST AND FOUND. 



CHAPTER III. 

We can not tell how the woman made a 
blaze, so as to light the lamp. Perhaps 
she used a flint and steel to light some 
tinder, and then the tinder-spark to light a 
a match dipped in brimstone ; or she may 
have rubbed two dry sticks together; or 
she may have kept a light burning all the 
time, as they did in the Temple, where the 
fire first kindled by the Lord was never 
suffered to go out. At any rate, she lit 
the lamp, and taking it by the handle, 
which was at the side, she took her broom, 
and, going into the kitchen, she commenced 
to sweep and look. 

Just as she had fairly begun to search 



THE COIN. 27 

for the piece, another neighbor came in, 
and began to talk to her about the foolish- 
ness of going to so much trouble for the 
sake of one little piece of money. 

"It is n't of much value/' said the 
neighbor; "and, besides, why do n't you 
think of the pieces you have in your purse ?" 

"I do think of them somewhat," said 
the woman; "but their being safe in the 
purse causes me to think of the one which 
is lost, and wish it were there also.' 

"But that is only one" replied the 
neighbor, "and these are nine in number; 
so you should think of these nine times 
more than of the one that is lost." 

"Perhaps I should do so," said the 
woman, "but I can not; and, so far from 
this, I believe I think a hundred times 
more of the one which is lost than I do 
of all the other pieces." 



28 LOST AND FOUND. 

"Well, you are a very singular woman/' 
said the other, as she went away; "but I 
wish you may find the piece." 

"I think you would act and feel just 
the same/' said she, as she bade her good- 
night, "if you were in my place." 

So we see her sweeping, sweeping, 
sweeping, peering here and there into the 
dark corners and among the dust and lit- 
ter, till she is so tired that she can hardly 
stand. 

To add to her discomfort, the babe be- 
gins to cry, and will not be stopped by 
all the words which its mother utters. 

Still she sweeps, and looks, and stoops, 
and rises, and, just as she thinks it is of 
no use, there it shines before her; and 0, 
with what joy does she pick it up, brush 
off the dust, and place it among its com- 
panions, safe at last in the leather purse ! 



THE COIN. 29 

But she is not content to have her joy 
all to herself, so she runs joyously up to 
the house-top, and calls to her friends and 
neighbors to come and rejoice with her. 
Soon the news spreads around, and they 
come running in to see the piece and ex- 
press their great gladness that at last the 
piece is found; and to see the woman so 
glad increases their joy, and for a long 
time they talk and laugh and rejoice to- 
gether. 

The same neighbor who found fault with 
the woman for looking after the coin wants 
to know why they do not rejoice about the 
pieces w T hich were never lost. They say 
they do not know, only they can not feel 
like rejoicing over them. They have al- 
ways been safe; but this was once lost, 
and is now found. 

The woman is thought to represent the 



30 LOST AND FOUND. 

Church of Christ, into whose care the 
whole human race has been committed. 
So, all that are in their sins may be said to 
be lost, and in danger of perishing. It is 
the duty of the Church, therefore, to seek 
for the poor and distressed sinner, wher- 
ever he is, and lead him to a place of 
safety and comfort. 

Some of these poor lost ones are in low, 
out-of-the-way places, where it is very un- 
pleasant to go; and yet they should not 
for this reason be left to themselves, and 
to grow worse and worse, until, at last, 
they perish forever. Their being in such 
places is the greater reason why we should 
use every means in our power to rescue 
them, as these very surroundings tend to 
make them worse. 

The candle, or lamp, may represent the 
Word of God, the blessed Bible, which is 



THE COIN. 31 

as "a light to our way and a lamp unto 
our path," and through its teachings we 
come to a knowledge of our own condition 
out of Christ, and also the condition of 
others about us. 

By the broom may be represented the 
various means which may be and are made 
use of in helping the sinful from the ways 
of unrighteousness. The Sunday-school is 
such a broom, and many of our young 
readers even may use this means of bring- 
ing some lost one to God and heaven. Go 
out into the highways and by-ways, and 
invite all the children, and even grown 
people, to come to your Sunday-school, 
where they will hear of Jesus, and find 
the way of salvation. 

The tract is another broom which may 
be used with good effect to sweep rough 
wanderers into the light and power of 



32 LOST AND FO UND. 

Gospel truth and enjoyment. Every little 
boy and girl may distribute tracts. They 
are not heavy, and it is quite likely that 
some people who are not followers of the 
Lord may be willing to take a tract from a 
little child or a large one, who would not 
receive it from a man or woman. 

Sometimes you will have to sweep 
lightly or gently, as a harsh manner might 
drive them away, when a courteous, loving 
course would win them to the Savior, and 
give them a correct idea of the influence 
of the glorious Gospel of the blessed God, 
which is so full of all right and pleasant 
thought and feeling. 

How encouraging to the lost to know 
that there are those who are seeking them, 
from love to their souls ! Despair not, 
sinner ! but believe that many desire your 
return to the bosom of the Church of God. 



THE COIN. 33 

And when you are addressed by one who 
is thus seeking you, turn not the cold 
shoulder, but allow yourself to be per- 
suaded of the willingness and ability of 
Jesus to save you. Accept the offers of 
salvation, and then shall there be great 
rejoicing in the Church below and in 
heaven above. 

Let us never be ashamed to rejoice when 
the lost has been found and brought back 
again. We only do what the angels do 
when we shout for joy as the lost one is 
recovered to home and friends, to the joys 
and blessings of the Church of Christ. 
No matter how poor they are ; no matter 
how soiled they are; no matter how un- 
learned they are; no matter how sinful 
they may have been, — let songs of great 
rejoicing and shouts of great gladness 
fill all the air when the weary, sad, 

3 



34 LOST AND FOUND. 

and helpless wanderers come to the arms 
of their great mother, the Church, and 
dwell secure under her affectionate pro- 
tection. 



Part II. 
THE LOST SHEEP. 



Foum). 



THE LOST SHEER 



CHAPTER I 



What a wonderful night was that when 
the shepherds, watching their flocks, heard 
the song of the angels ! They were prob- 
ably on a plain to the east of Bethlehem. 
This village, which is now quite a large 
one, was then, it is thought, a small ham- 
let. It is about six miles south of Jeru- 
salem, and was often called Bethlehem- 
Judah, because there was another Bethle- 
hem in the part of Palestine where the 
tribe of Zebulon was located. The shep- 
herds were watching their flocks to protect 

37 



38 LOST AND FO UND. 

them from the wild beasts, which were 
quite numerous in those parts; and, while 
the flocks were quietly and securely rest- 
ing, the shepherds may have been passing 
away the time in telling stories to one 
another; for this was a very favorite occu- 
pation with the people who lived in what 
is called the Orient, or the Eastern World. 
While thus watching, an angel descended 
right in their midst, and made them greatly 
afraid; but he told them not to fear — and 
when he had given them his message, sud- 
denly there was with him, just as though 
they had been made right there, a whole 
company of other angels, who sang that 
wonderful song: " Glory to God in the 
highest, and on earth peace, good will 
toward men!" Then the shepherds went 
to Bethlehem, and found Jesus, just as the 
angel told them they would, and they were 



THE SHEEP. 39 

very glad, though they were very much 
surprised. 

Now, let us suppose that one of these 
shepherds had a son, and that he was a 
shepherd too. And this would not be 
strange; for it was a very common thing 
for the Jews to bring up their sons to the 
same trade or occupation that they them- 
selves followed. And whether they did 
this or not, all the boys must learn some 
trade; and so the greatest men among 
them had their trades — while, so far from 
being ashamed to have it known that they 
had learned a trade, they called themselves 
after it, as, Jonathan, the potter. So, you 
recollect that though Paul was a very 
learned man, and a very proud man, too, 
about his religion, before he was con- 
verted, yet he had learned a trade; and 
when he was a Christian minister, he 



40 LOST AND FO UND. 

wrought at it, with Aquila and Priscilla. 
He was a tent-maker. 

We say, suppose this shepherd's boy 
was also a shepherd, and that he grew up 
to be a man, and had his own flock. Let 
us call his name Obed, and consider that 
this flock of his numbers just one hundred. 
He thinks a great deal of his sheep, and 
knows every one of them. Not only so, 
but he has a name for every one, and 
when he calls one by his name that sheep 
knows it, and runs to him. There is some- 
thing very singular about this man and his 
sheep. He has spoken to them so often, 
and called them so frequently by their 
names, that they have grown familiar with 
his voice, and will listen whenever he 
speaks; but if any one else speaks, no 
matter how kindly, or how often he calls 
their names, they will not listen to him, 



THE SHEEP. 41 

but act just as if they did not know he 
was speaking. Not only so, but if he calls 
them any wise loudly or harshly, they will 
run from him, instead of coming nearer to 
him. How pleased the shepherd must be 
to have sheep that will mind him, and 
only him, so well, and appear to love him 
so dearly! 

I have seen lately in a paper an incident 
which will illustrate what I am telling you : 

"Not long since, a man in India was ac- 
cused of stealing a sheep. He was brought 
before the judge, and the supposed owner 
of the sheep was also present. Both 
claimed the sheep, and had witnesses to 
prove their claims, so that it was not easy 
for the judge to decide to whom the sheep 
belonged. Knowing the custom of the 
shepherds and the habits of the sheep, 
the judge ordered the sheep to be brought 



42 LOST AND FO TJND. 

into court, and sent one of the men into 
another room, while he told the other to 
call the sheep and see if it would come to 
him. But the poor animal, not knowing 
the 'voice of the stranger/ would not go 
to him. In the mean time the other man, 
who was in an adjoining room, growing 
impatient, and probably suspecting what 
was going on, gave a kind of 'cluck,' upon 
which the sheep bounded away toward him 
at once." 

This shepherd loves his sheep very 
much, and will cheerfully undergo any 
suffering and brave any peril to rescue 
them from danger and death. He is as 
brave as his great ancestor, David. You 
have read in your Bibles, perhaps, how 
this celebrated king, in order to prove his 
ability to meet Goliath, related to Saul 
what happened to him once when he was 



THE SHEEP. 43 

keeping his father's sheep, and a lion and 
a bear came and took away a lamb; how 
he ran after them, and w 7 hen the lion stood 
up on its hind-feet, to strike him with his 
paws, he smote him with some sharp 
weapon, and slew him, and delivered the 
lamb out of his mouth. He then slew 
also the bear, which was probably waiting 
near to get his share of the poor lamb. 

If this shepherd were only a hired man 
he could not have so great love for the 
sheep as he now has, they being his own; 
and if the wolf should come, or the more 
ferocious and stronger beasts which David 
killed should approach, he would fly from 
them and seek his own safety, rather than 
remain and endeavor to rescue them. So 
the sheep might well rejoice, if they could 
understand it, that they are under the care 
of one who owns them. 



44 LOST AND FO UND. 

Obed also loves his sheep so well that 
he would go to great pains, and endure 
great privations, to find one of them if it 
were lost. And now I am going to tell 
you how one of the sheep became lost, 
and how Obed found it. 



THE SHEEP. 45 



CHAPTER II. 

It was a bright, beautiful day in Pales- 
tine. The sky was so blue it was almost 
black, and the cool west wind played 
cheerily among the dark-green boughs of 
the olive-trees, and bent gracefully the 
long branches of the oleanders, so full of 
sweet crimson blossoms. 

Far out in an uninhabited part of the 
country, which is called a wilderness, be- 
cause it is made up of wild, uncultivated 
land, we see a flock of sheep; and on a 
little hill near by a shepherd is reclining, 
who every once in a while raises himself 
and looks about, that he may see whether 
any of the sheep are straying, or if any 



46 LOST AND FOUND. 

wild beast is approaching. It is Obed, 
with his flock of a hundred, and they both 
seem to be enjoying the delightful day. 

Hour after hour passes, until the shad- 
ows begin to grow long in the declining 
sun, and Obed begins to think it is time to 
gather his flock closer together, for greater 
security during the night; and he begins to 
call the sheep with a cry which they all 
seem to understand as they run toward 
him. Then he begins to count them, in 
order that he may be sure they are all 
present. He counts on until he comes to 
the number ninety-nine, when he finds 
that this takes the last sheep. Thinking 
he may have made a mistake, he counts 
them over again, and then the third time, 
but with the same result — when he dis- 
covers, much to his dismay, that one of 
his sheep is missing. What shall he do? 



THE SHEEP. 47 

The night is close at hand; it will soon be 
very dark — for the twilight does not last 
long in this part of the world — and the 
poor sheep will be exposed to the perils 
of the darkness and the attacks of wild 
beasts. He thinks of the flock which is 
standing about him, and what may happen 
to them should he leave them; but his 
heart yearns still more after the little lost 
one, wandering, he knows not where, amid 
the rocks and brambles, bleating, perhaps, 
for its companions — so he resolves to leave 
the flock and go after the one that is lost. 
He takes a hasty look of fondness at the 
sheep he is leaving, and then plunges down 
into a narrow ravine in the direction which 
he supposes the lost sheep has gone. 

On and on he strides, more and more 
alarmed for its safety the farther he gets 
from the flock. Now he stops and listens; 



48 LOST AND FOUND. 

but he can hear nothing from it, and he 
resumes his search, looking here and there 
in every cranny and crook and crevice, if 
he may but see only its bones ; yet he gets 
no clew to its whereabouts. It is now 
getting somewhat dark, and as Obed steps 
on a sharp stone it pierces the sandal 
which he wears and cuts his foot; this 
causes him to lose his balance, and he falls 
heavily to the earth, striking his side 
Against a rough rock and breaking one of 
his ribs. He gets up bleeding and sore, 
and at first thinks he might as well go 
back and let the lost sheep go; but he 
thinks again of its peril, and he feels that 
he must seek and save it. So on he plods, 
weary and faint; and then he stops and 
listens. No sound. All is still; but just 
as he starts to walk, a black form creeps 
from the bushes near the path, and, quickly 



THE SHEEP. 49 

gliding across Obed's track, he perceives 
that it is a gaunt wolf, with shaggy hair 
and glistening eyes. Its white teeth show 
plainly as it snarls at Obed, and then gal- 
lops off to seek its prey. This sight 
makes Obed more and more fearful for his 
sheep, and he steps more quickly, though 
in great pain, calling and looking till he is 
almost in complete despair of ever finding 
the straying one. 

He thinks he will give up the search 
for the night, and resume it again in the 
morning, after he has gone a little further. 
He goes a short distance, and listens. He 
believes he hears a faint bleat in the dis- 
tance. He goes forward a little, and 
listens again, when he is assured that it is 
the bleat of his sheep which is lost. How 
his heart bounds with delight! He forgets 
his pain and his weariness, and runs on in 

4 



50 LOST AND FOUND. 

the direction of the bleating; but, as he 
nears the place where he supposes the 
sheep is, he finds that he has company in 
his search — for not far from him he per- 
ceives the form of the wolf again, and sees 
that he too is hastening toward the same 
place. He must hasten, or the wolf will 
outrun him, and seize the sheep and suck 
his blood. He musters up all his strength 
and makes one final effort. Just as he 
gets within sight of the sheep, the wolf 
outruns him a few steps and leaps on the 
wanderer; but he has not time to close his 
savage jaws in its flesh before the sharp 
knife of Obed glances in the air and de- 
scends like lightning into the neck of the 
wolf. The beast then turns on Obed, and, 
leaping at him, buries his sharp teeth in 
the shepherd's arm. Obed stumbles and 
falls, and over and over the two roll 



THE SHEEP. 51 

together, till, at last, a well-directed blow 
of the sharp knife strikes the heart of the 
wolf, and he gives one deep, long yell as 
he turns on his side and dies. 

The sheep is then carefully taken up 
and lifted to the shoulders of the stout 
shepherd, who turns his steps toward the 
place where he has left his flock. Much 
shorter seems the distance, now that he 
has recovered the lost one. How light is 
his heart, and how easy his burden, as he 
pushes through the gathering darkness! 
He talks to the sheep, and chides it in a 
playful manner for its wrong-doing in wan- 
dering off from a place of safety. He 
tells it to be careful not to go off again, 
lest he should allow it to wander on till it 
should perish. He reminds it how kind 
he has been to it in leading it beside the 
still waters and into green pastures, and 



52 LOST AND FOUND. 

that, now he has restored it to the place 
of safety, it must not wander again. 

Now the flock is in sight, and the sheep 
is let down from the shoulders and placed 
with the others. It seems very glad to 
get back to its fellows, huddles up to a 
small group of the flock, and is soon for- 
getting its troubles in a refreshing sleep. 



THE SHEEP. 53 



CHAPTER ni. 

There is a beautiful story told by the 
Rev. Newman Hall of how a sheep was 
lost and found in England, which you may 
like to read : 

"Wandering, as I have often done, 
knapsack on back and staff in hand, over 
the mountains of the English Lake Dis- 
trict, I reached my old friend's, Ritson 
of Westdale, just as tidings were brought 
of a sheep that had wandered among the 
precipices and was in peril. A party set 
off at once to rescue it. I joined them, 
and thus was witness of a scene which I 
looked at as a parable acting before my 



54 LOST AND FO UND. 

eyes, and in every particular illustrating 
Gospel truth. 

" The sheep was a long way off, and yet 
was noticed. It was but a tiny object, a 
mere speck upon the rocks; still, the care- 
ful eye of the shepherd detected it. It 
was but one of a large flock, yet it was 
valued. It had wandered off in search of 
herbage, and, descending without difficulty 
the face of a mountain cliff, had reached a 
ledge in the rocks. It could go no farther, 
neither could it return by the way by 
which it had descended. And now there 
was nothing for it to eat, and the poor 
sheep must have perished had not the 
shepherd come to find it. 

"No time was to be lost. One of the 
shepherds fastened a strong rope round his 
body, and the other two men lowered him 
down over the top of the rock. There was 



THE SHEEP. 55 

some risk of limb or life; but he was 
willing to encounter it for the sake of the 
sheep. My brother and myself found a 
way to clamber to the bottom of the rocks, 
w 7 hence w r e watched the shepherd being 
lowered down till he came near to where 
the sheep w 7 as standing. But as he could 
not reach it with his hand, he stretched 
out the long pole and tried to place the 
noose round the sheep's neck. I watched 
with interest the patience and perseverance 
of the shepherd. For two w T hole hours, 
hanging over the precipice, he labored to 
save the sheep. 

"But the sheep seemed resolved not to 
be saved. Just as the noose was about to 
fall over its head, the sheep twisted sud- 
denly round to avoid it. Then the shep- 
herd had again to arrange and prepare his 
line. Poor sheep ! you do not know how 



56 LOST AND FOUND. 

good that shepherd is, and how he wants 
to save you. You think he has come to 
do you harm. You are frightened at your 
helper. You dislike the noose that has 
been prepared to rescue you. You do not 
see that such captivity will be freedom; 
that such a bondage will be safety ! Thus 
for two hours the sheep continued to elude 
the shepherd's efforts. Moreover, in its 
fright it was in danger of throwing itself 
over the precipice. To prevent this, we 
shouted and threw stones. The sheep 
was frightened by these noises, which it 
no doubt regarded as coming from enemies, 
but which were merciful warnings and ter- 
rors kindly meant. 

"At length the noose was cast over the 
head of the sheep. The poor wanderer 
struggled hard; but the shepherd drew T it 
forward, in spite of all resistance. The 



THE SHEEP. 57 

cord was tight round its neck, and no 
doubt gave it pain; but it was needful 
pain, pain only in the process of rescue, 
pain only till the sheep was brought quite 
close to the shepherd. Then he loosened 
the cord as he held the sheep carefully in 
his arms. But there was more to be done 
yet. The shepherd asked us to act as 
helpers and under-shepherds to him; for, 
as it would be easier and better to lower 
the sheep to the bottom among the safe 
pastures than to raise it to the top among 
the rocks, he tied the legs of the sheep 
together, and, fastening the rope to them, 
lowered it down to us. Then we unfas- 
tened the string that bound its legs, and 
set it at liberty. We did not save it, but, 
as under-shepherds, we helped in the good 
work. 

"0, how glad the sheep was when it 



58 LOST AND FOUND. 

found it was safe and free ! How it jumped 
and skipped and frisked along the turf! 
Then how eagerly it began to browse the 
safe pastures! for it had been long with- 
out food. 

"And how glad was the shepherd when 
he saw the sheep safe, and when he as- 
cended again to the top of the rocks and 
rejoined his companions! And with what 
delight they went back to the farm and 
said, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found 
the sheep that was lost !' " 






THE SHEEP. 59 



CHAPTER IV. 

And now I need not tell vou that I 
have written what I have in order to lead 
you to think of Him who is the Great 
Shepherd of the sheep, and who could 
truly say of himself, "I am the good 
shepherd." The Lord Jesus dearly loves 
all those who put themselves under his 
care, and will not suffer them to be lost, 
or want for any thing necessary to their t 
spiritual comfort, so long as they put their 
trust in him and remain his sheep. He 
knows all his followers by name. The 
names by which Jesus knows us may not 
be the same as those by which we are 
known on earth; but be assured they are 



60 LOST AND FO UND. 

beautiful ones, and greatly adorn that 
wonderful book of which we read in the 
Bible, It is called the book of life, and 
contains the names of those whom Christ 
intends shall live with him in the bright 
abodes of the blessed, where is no sighing 
nor pain nor night nor death, because the 
former things are done away. Yet we 
read that Christ says of a certain kind of 
man, "I will not blot out his name out of 
the book of life, but I will confess his 
name before my Father, and before his 
angels." (Revelation iii, 5.) And again, 
in the last chapter of the Bible, nineteenth 
verse, it reads, "And if any man shall 
take away from the words of the book of 
this prophecy, God shall take away his 
part out of the book of life." So Ave see 
it is possible, even after we have had our 
names written in the Lamb's book of life, 



THE SHEEP. 61 

to have our names blotted out, and never 
be called by the Savior to the enjoyment 
of the inheritance he is reserving in heaven 
for those whom he loves, and who remain 
faithful through all their afflictions, temp- 
tations, and trials here in this world. 

That is, if we are careful to maintain 
good works Jesus will remember our 
names, and bring us to dwell with him 
forever; but if we do wrong, even though 
we may have been converted, it will be 
the same as though Jesus should forget 
our names and all about us, and refuse to 
admit us to the presence of bright angels 
and all those who overcome through the 
blood of the Lamb. 

This gracious Savior of ours was indeed 
the Good Shepherd, for he gave his life for 
the sheep. He came all the way from his 
Father's bright abode to this dark and 



62 LOST AND FO UND. 

ruined world, that he might here seek and 
save them that were lost. In the dreadful 
combat with the prince of this world, the 
devil, and Satan, the great greedy wolf 
that seeks to destroy us, Christ gave up 
his life indeed, and thus secured our salva- 
tion; but he did not remain dead. No! 
The third day he rose and revived, that 
he might be the Lord both of the dead 
and the living, and, triumphing over death, 
as well as him who had the power of 
death, he has for evermore freed those 
who trust in him from the bondage of sin 
and death. 

Let us never leave our shepherd's side 
in order to stray into the bleak and dreary 
wilderness of sin, or into the more alluring 
fields of worldly pleasure. It may be he 
will seek us, even though we may wander; 
but it is quite possible that we shall be 



THE SHEEP. 63 

unwilling: to follow him back to the safe 
path or the secure fold, and then, still re- 
fusing all his calls, be seized at last by the 
cruel wolf, and dragged to his dreadful den, 
there to suffer and mourn forever. 
Let this be your prayer : 

" Leave me not now, while still the shade is creeping 
O'er the sad heart that longs to rest in thee. 
Hear my complaint, and, while my soul is weeping, 
Breathe thou the holy dew of sympathy. 

Leave me not now, thou Savior of compassion, 
While yet the busy tempter lurketh near ; 

Lord, by thine anguish and thy wondrous passion, 
Do I entreat thee now to linger near. 

Jesus, thou soul of love, thou heart of feeling, 
Let me repose the weary night away, 

Safe on thy bosom, all my woes revealing, 
Secure from danger, till the dawn of day. 

Then leave me not, Comforter and Father; 

Parent of love, I live but in thy sight ; 
Good Shepherd, to thy fold the wand'rer gather, 

There to adore thee, morning, noon, and night." 



Part III. 
THE LOST SON. 



FOUND. 



THE LOST SON, 



CHAPTER I. 



A young man is standing before an 
elderly one, who appears to be his father. 
The young man is arrayed in a sort of 
shirt, or tunic, which reaches his ankles, 
made of linen, and over this he has a rich, 
square blanket, or shawl, called an abba, 
or burnoose. He has drawn one corner 
over his left shoulder, then brought it 
around under his right arm, and then 
thrown the other end over his left shoul- 
der — thus leaving his right arm free. 
Around his waist he has an embroidered 

scarf tied, and on his feet sandals — pieces 

67 



68 LOST AND FOUND. 

of leather cut in the shape of the bottom 
of the foot, and bound fast to the foot by 
leather thongs, or strings. These sandals 
are meant when the Bible speaks of shoes, 
and by a " shoe-latchet" is meant a sandal- 
thong. 

The elderly man is dressed in about the 
same style, only his raiment is richer; and 
on his finger is a signet-ring, with which 
the wax used to seal a letter is impressed. 
He has also on his head a turban, made of 
a long piece of narrow linen cloth. 

Who are these two men? All w r e know 
is that they are father and son, and that 
the son has come to make a request of his 
father in regard to the property which his 
father holds, and which he intends to divide 
between this young man and his brother. 

The young man says something like 
this : u Father, I wish you would give me 



THE SON. 69 

that part of the property which is coming 
to me, as I want to go away from home 
and try my fortune in a distant land." 
His father converses with him in regard 
to the matter, and finally tells him that he 
will divide all the goods that he has be- 
tween him and his brother, and that he is 
at liberty to go if he pleases, only he 
must be careful not to get into bad com- 
pany and spend his money foolishly. 

How many boys there are who think 
they will be able to get along a great deal 
better away from home than while under 
the care of their parents! And this is 
perhaps intended to be the case, in the 
wise order of our Heavenly Father, who 
sees that it is not best for us always to be 
dependent, but preferable that we should 
become self-reliant, and build our own for- 
tunes. But when boys wish to leave home 



70 LOST AND FOUND. 

in order that they may follow the wicked 
desires of their hearts, and plunge into all 
manner of vice, which they have been 
kept from by the wiser and stronger will 
of their parents, then it is very likely 
their future will be most terrible, and their 
sufferings great. 

Thus, it would appear, it was with this 
young man, and thus it was with Adam 
and his descendants, who have left God 
and turned every one to his own way. 
Man thought he could get along well enough 
without God; but when he had sinned and 
heard the voice of God in the Garden, then 
he was afraid, because he knew he was 
guilty and deserved punishment. 

But let us return to the young man, 
and find out what he did. He waited a 
few days, perhaps, hesitating about taking 
so much risk in leaving his father and 



THE SON. 71 

setting up for himself; but at last he col- 
lected all his money and clothing and 
other goods which he wished to carry with 
him, and commenced his journey. Per- 
haps he looked back at his old home, and 
found himself standing still, thinking of 
the delightful times he had enjoyed be- 
neath his father's roof, and wondering 
whether he would ever see as happy days 
as those, and whether he should ever return 
to enjoy again the presence of those he 
loved. But the caravan with which he is 
traveling is moving on, and he must go 
with it, or be exposed to robbers and wild 
beasts ; so he dashes the tear away from 
his eye, and makes haste to catch up with 
his fellow-travelers. 

Day after day he travels on, until a land 
is reached which is far, far away from the 
place of his birth. All about him is strange. 



72 LOST AND FOUND. 

The manners and customs of the people 
are different from those of his friends and 
acquaintances, as a general thing; but he 
finds that the people in this country know 
how to do wrong. Perhaps his father 
warned him against the dangers of the 
land. Perhaps he gave him some such 
advice as one of our great poets imagines 
a father, called Polonius, gave to his son 
Laertes : 

" Give thy thoughts no tongue, 
Nor any unproportioned thought his act 
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. 
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, 
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel; 
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment 
Of each new-hatch' d, unfledg'd comrade. Beware 
Of entrance to a quarrel; but, being in, 
Bear it that the opposed may beware of thee. 
Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice. 
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. 
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, 
But not expressed in fancy; rich, not gaudy; 
For the apparel oft proclaims the man ; 
And they in France of the best rank and station 



THE SON. 73 

Are most select and generous, chief in that. 
Neither a borrower nor a lender be; 
For loan often loses both itself and friend, 
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. 
This above all, — to thine own self be true, 
And it must follow, as the night the day, 
Thou canst not then be false to any man." 

Whatever advice this young man's father 
gave him, there is one part of this advice 
of Polonius which he did not heed, and 
that is the portion relating to the selection 
of comrades. Like many young men, he 
was careless as to whom he associated 
with, only so that they were gay compan- 
ions and flattered him in his course of sin 
and dissipation. Not only did he probably 
associate w T ith bad men, but also with those 
bad women against whose flattering, de- 
ceitful tongues the wise man so often warns 
us in the Book of Proverbs. 

Doubtless, this young man thought at 
first: "What a happy life I am leading! 



74 LOST AND FO UND. 

No father to hinder me in doing what I 
wish to; no mother to caution me against 
what I am sure can not hurt me a great 
deal. To be sure, there may be some 
danger in going with these bad compan- 
ions ; but when I find that I am going to 
be greatly injured by them, why, then I 
will turn about and be steady and indus- 
trious." Alas, poor young man! He did 
not consider how greatly he had been 
injured even by choosing such persons to 
be his comrades. When one consents to 
go with the wicked, and casts in his lot 
with them and decides to have one purse 
together, it is like entering the outer cir- 
cles of the fearful whirlpool. These circles 
are often so large that the vessel in which 
the sailor is does not seem to be going 
round at all; but as he gets nearer the 
center the circles become smaller and 



THE SON. 75 

smaller, till at last he becomes certain that 
he is nearing the dreadful vortex where 
his boat will be swallowed up in the dark, 
raging waters. Now he fully realizes his 
peril, and makes wonderful endeavors to 
save himself. If it is a row-boat in which 
he is, he plies the oars with all the might 
he can command. He toils till the drops 
of sweat stand out all over his face, and 
even his clothing is drenched with the 
moisture of his own body. He looks to- 
ward the center, and sees with dismay 
that it is still somewhat nearer; and then, 
with desperation depicted in his face, he 
redoubles his efforts till it would seem as 
though he would die from exhaustion, even 
though he should not reach the fatal mouth 
of the monster from whose clutches he is 
vainly endeavoring to free himself. But 
all his efforts are useless; and now, as the 



76 LOST AND FOUND. 

boat nears the awful place where he must 
die, his hands refuse to hold the oars — 
they float away, and in the saddest despair 
he sits motionless for a few moments ; then 
the boat rises in front, and, as the poor 
sailor lifts his hands in agony, both he and 
the boat disappear forever. 

So our young man, whom we will call 
Zaza, began to go round in the outer cir- 
cles of the whirlpool of sin, and it was 
only by great mercy and deep contrition 
that he escaped the depths of perdition, 
where so many wail in endless w T oe. 

At last he wasted all the money he had. 
Often, no doubt, did he drain the red wine 
cup, and become so drunken as not to 
know what he was about. He forgot the 
words of the inspired wise man: "Look 
not thou upon the wine when it is red, 
when it giveth his color in the cup, when 



THE SON. 77 



it moveth itself aright. At the last it 
biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an 
adder. Thine eyes shall behold strange 
women, and thine heart shall utter perverse 
things. Yea, thou shalt be as he that lieth 
down in the midst of the sea, or as he that 
lieth upon the top of a mast. They have 
stricken me, shalt thou say, and I was not 
sick: they have beaten me, and I felt it 
not: when shall I awake? I will seek it 
yet again." Probably these very associates 
of his, who had shared in his dissipation, 
and who had feasted and become drunken 
on his money, were the very ones to beat 
him and rob him, leaving him wounded and 
sore and sick, with no one to give him the 
least assistance, or speak a single kind 
word in his dull, aching ear. 

So we shall often find it among the 
lovers of sinful pleasure. It is all very 



78 LOST AND FOUND. 

well, so long as one has money and is able 
to treat others to what is pleasant and en- 
joyable. Then you will be the best of 
fellows, and be invited to places of enter- 
tainment on all hands ; but when the low, 
black clouds of misfortune come over your 
prospects, and your purse no longer con- 
tains any money, these same pretended 
friends will leave you to yourself, and 
allow you to get along as well as you can, 
though you may be in a dying condition. 



THE SON. 79 



CHAPTER II. 

But now another trouble stared Zaza 
in the face. Like all Eastern countries, 
this one to which he had gone was sub- 
ject to a great scarcity of food at times. 
It happens once in a while that there does 
not come the ordinary amount of rain, and 
then the crops are short, or they have no 
grain at all, and many of the people perish 
from hunger. Thus it has happened in 
Persia within the last two years, and this 
being a country where there are few or 
no railroads and telegraphs, thousands 
have died, and great distress has prevailed 
over large portions of the land. In our 
own favored land it is quite possible that 



80 LOST AND FO UND. 

such a state of things can not now occur 
by any of the ordinary failures of rain 
or sunshine, because, though one part of 
the country might be without the usual 
crops, yet other parts would have as much 
or more than usual, and it would not only 
soon be known that the people were in 
want, but they could be very speedily 
supplied by the numerous railroads which 
now stretch from one side of the country 
to the other, and run in all directions 
across its face. 

But the famine was in the land, and 
Zaza was starving; so he must bestir him- 
self and get something to do that he may 
not perish. He starts off to seek employ- 
ment. The first man he asks looks at his 
hands, and, seeing that they are soft and 
white, thinks that Zaza does not know 
how to work, and tells him "No." Then 



THE SON. 81 

he goes to another and another and an- 
other, till he is very weary, and feels so 
faint for the want of food that he can 
scarcely go any further. At last he meets 
w 7 ith an inhabitant of that country, who 
asks him what he can do. Zaza mentions 
over w T hat he thinks he is able to perform ; 
but these things the man has no need of, 
for he is a farmer, and Zaza has been 
bred a clerk. "Well, then," says Zaza, 
"give me any thing to do, for I must get 
a place, and though it may be something 
rough, yet I think I am willing to do 
almost any thing." The man says, "I have 
some hogs down in the fields yonder, 
under those carob-trees, and if you want 
to tend them, why, I don't care if you 
go and feed them." Zaza thought some 
time about the matter, for this was a pass 
to which he never had thought he would 



82 LOST AND FO UND. 

come. He was a Jew, and it was an 
occupation to which no Jew was willing 
to stoop. They all looked upon the hog 
as an unclean animal. "And the swine, 
though he divide the hoof, and be cloven- 
footed, yet he cheweth not the cud; he 
is unclean to you. Of their flesh shall ye 
not eat and their carcass shall ye not 
touch; they are unclean to you." (Lev- 
iticus xi, 7, 8.) "Ye shall therefore put 
difference between clean beasts and un- 
clean, and between unclean fowls and 
clean; and ye shall not make your souls 
abominable by beast or by fowl or by any 
manner of living thing that creepeth on 
the ground, which I have separated from 
you as unclean." (Leviticus xx, 25.) 

This being the case, Zaza hesitated*. 
But what could he do? He was hungry 
and tired, and perhaps nearly naked. It 



THE SON. 83 

might have been night was coming on, 
stormy and cold, and he had no shelter. 
So he at last overcame his scruples, and 
hired out to this man, and he sent him 
to do that work which at first he shrank 
from, but afterward may have done with 
no compunction of conscience at all. 

So with fallen man. He becomes ut- 
terly without righteousness. He finds 
himself without any of the grace of God 
in his heart, and he hires himself out to 
Satan to do just what the devil may de- 
sire of him. So we see men who have 
intelligence, and look as though they 
would feel great shame at their conduct, 
doing things that might make demons 
themselves blush, and yet they appear to 
think it is all right. They are "led cap- 
tive by the devil at his will," the Bible 
says, and find themselves at last abject 



84 LOST AND FO UND. 

slaves of sin, working all manner of abom- 
ination and glorying in their shame. 

It is thought by some that the young 
man of whom we are writing got lower 
still than the position of a swineherd. Per- 
haps he was so careless or so indolent 
that his master dismissed him. Or, may be, 
his master found some one else who would 
do the same work cheaper, and so em- 
ployed another in Zaza's place. Then he 
wandered off and became more degraded 
and dejected than ever. So low did he 
get that he thought of the pods which 
the hogs had once eaten from the trough 
where he had thrown them, and he would 
have been glad even to get such food to 
appease the terrible gnawings of hunger 
which he felt; but there was no one who 
thought enough of him to give him even 
what the hogs ate. what a condition 



THE SON. 85 

was this for one to be in who was once 
in affluent circumstances and might have 
had all that was necessary to comfort! 
Let us look more closely at him as he 
sits meditating in his deep disgrace and 
poverty. His clothes are in rags. He has 
tried to patch them with new pieces or 
with unfulled cloth; but, as Christ says, 
the piece has shrunk and torn away, and 
the rent has been made worse. His hair 
has been uncombed for a long time, and 
hangs about his neck in tangled, matted 
masses; his feet are bare, as he has not 
enough money to procure even the cheap- 
est kind of sandals; his eye is sunken, 
and his cheeks are hollow; his form is 
bent, so that he looks almost like a very 
old man; and his whole appearance is that 
of one of the most debased and filthy of 
beggars or scavengers. 



86 LOST AND FO UNI). 

But this is not all. This poor young 
man s mind is so affected that he does not 
know how badly off he is. Like some 
people who are kept in insane asylums, 
he may suppose he is quite respectable 
and well enough off, while at the same 
time he is the most unfortunate and de- 
praved of men. He is like a man per- 
fectly blind, who thinks he can see, or 
like a man very sick and near death, who 
supposes he is pretty well and will soon 
be able to perform his ordinary business. 

What a true picture does this woe-be- 
gone spendthrift present of the state of 
man in his lost and fallen condition ! Man 
in his sins is devoid of all original right- 
eousness. The goodness that he seems to 
have is like filthy rags in God's sight. He 
is in need of the provisions of the Gospel, 
and will soon die eternally if he does not 



THE SON. 87 

partake of them; yet he often asks to be 
excused from coming to the table so richly 
furnished with all good things. He is unfit 
to appear in the presence of God and his 
holy angels; and yet he rejects the beautiful 
marriage garment which is so freely offered 
to prepare him to sit at the great supper and 
enjoy the felicities of heaven. And then, 
worst of all, he is beside himself, and does 
not know how sinful he is, or what a 
dreadful matter it is to be so evil at heart 
and bad in his life. He is apt to think 
that he is just as ready to die and just as 
ready for the judgment-day as he needs to 
be, while at the same time he is full of sin ; 
and if he should be called suddenly away 
from this life, and thus appear at the bar 
of God to be judged, he would certainly be 
condemned, and sent to dwell with the 
wicked angels forever. 



88 LOST AND FOUND. 

But Zaza came to himself. He was by 
some means brought to see his real condi- 
tion, and realized at last to what a low 
place he had sunk. Then he thought of 
what he had once been. His mind roved 
back to the home of his boyhood ; he 
thought of the joyous times he had when, 
free from care and trouble, he sported like 
a lamb in the green meadows, and had all 
that- was necessary to his comfort. Then 
he thought of the time when, as a young 
man, he shared in the love and sympathy 
of his father, and how the servants bowed 
down to him, and delighted to perform 
services of kindness, and hastened to at- 
tend to his slightest wish. And those 
very servants — they were now living in 
the enjoyment of what would be to him 
most delicious fare, though it was as noth- 
ing to what he had once enjoyed. Then 



THE SON. 89 

he thought: "I wonder whether my father 
would receive me. Would he own as his 
son — such a poor, miserable, wicked sinner 
as I am? Perhaps not; I am too degraded, 
too low, too mean, too evil. Yet he might 
possibly, if I confessed my wickedness, be 
willing to let me come into the house as 
one of the lowest servants. I think I will 
try it, at any rate, I will get right up and 
start toward home. I may never reach it; 
but I will make the effort. And I will 
tell my father that I am a very great 
sinner ; that I have sinned not only against 
him, but also against Heaven. I have 
done that which God hates. I will tell 
him that I do not deserve to be called his 
son any more; and I will ask him to take 
me as a hired servant, and put me at the 
very lowest employment, only so I may 
be in the house and look on his face, and 



90 LOST AND FOUND. 

feel that he is not angry with me. 0, 
that I might be permitted to wash his feet 
and sweep the floor after he has partaken 
of his meals, or even untie his sandal- 
thongs !" 

Talking thus with himself, he arises and 
starts forward. He is very weak, and 
doubts whether he shall be able to reach 
the end of his journey. Still he strug- 
gles forward; and it is even wonderful to 
himself that he is able to make the 
progress he does. He has no money; so 
he is under the necessity of begging his 
way all along. His food for the day is 
often only a crust and a drink of water; 
his bed is often the hard ground, and his 
covering the dark sky, full of stars; yet 
still he drags himself toward his home, and 
is now coming where he sees objects which 
are familiar to him. 



THE SON. 91 



CHAPTER III. 

Let us now, in our imagination, go to 
that home toward which he is traveling, 
and see what is going on there. 

After Zaza left home, his father missed 
him greatly, and seemed to be sorry that 
his son had left him ; but he gradually be- 
came reconciled to his absence, and com- 
forted himself with the elder son, who 
remained with him, and to whom he had 
given all his remaining possessions. What 
occasioned Zaza's father to be still more 
reconciled to his absence was the fact that 
Zaza often wrote to tell him how he was 
getting along, and would assure him that 
he would soon accumulate a large fortune, 



92 LOST AND FOUND. 

and return home, a very wealthy man, to 
take care of his father in his declining 
years. But as time wore on the letters 
became fewer and fewer, till at last they 
ceased altogether. The land was very far 
off; and though the father sent as often as 
possible by messengers who might be trav- 
eling in that direction, and though he often 
wrote, yet he heard no more from his son. 
The fact was Zaza was ashamed to write, 
and at last became so hardened in his sins 
and vices that he would not open the let- 
ters which his father sent;. and so his 
father ceased to write to him. But 0, 
how sad his heart felt that he did not get 
any word from his boy, whom he loved so 
fondly ! How his heart sank within him, 
as he thought what terrible things might 
have occurred to him who once sat on his 
knee and prattled in his childish gayety 



THE SON. 93 

and innocence. "Perhaps," thought the 
father, "he has been destroyed by wild 
beasts, as Jacob thought his son Joseph 
had been; perhaps he has been set on by 
robbers, who have beaten him and left him 
to die at the roadside; perhaps he has 
fallen sick, and, after long lingering in 
pain and want among strangers who cared 
not for him, he has been tumbled into the 
cold grave, and not a tear shed over him 
as he has been left alone in the dark 
tomb." Thus reflecting, how sadly passed 
the hours; and what deep grief settled 
upon the heart of that affectionate father; 
and how he longed to know the worst, 
even though it might cause him deeper 
sorrow ! 

Children away from home can not real- 
ize how much pain of mind they cause 
when they are negligent in regard to 



94 LOST AND FO UND. 

informing their parents as to their employ- 
ments, pleasures, prospects, and general 
condition. Even the most simple account 
of the most trivial things is interesting to 
a parent; and there is often a great mis- 
take made when it is thought that unless 
a letter contains something very grand and 
surprising, therefore it will not be interest- 
ing to those who take an interest in our 
welfare. The more simple and conversa- 
tional and personal the letter, the more it 
is thought of and treasured. General 
news can be obtained from papers and 
books; but the feelings of one's heart 
must come from the person's own mouth 
or pen, and the more minute the informa- 
tion, the more does it reveal to those to 
whom we write the actual condition of the 
one who is writing. 

At last Zaza's father concluded that he 



THE SON. 95 

was really dead, and mourned for him as 
though he had seen him laid in the sepul- 
cher. Still, there would come at times 
the sweet hope that he was yet alive, and 
would some day come walking in strong 
and well, to give his father a recital of 
strange adventures and wonderful escapes 
through which he had passed. But as 
time wore on this hope grew less and less, 
and nearly disappeared. 

One lovely evening, as the sun was near 
its setting, the father, hoping against hope, 
thought he would go, as he had often gone, 
and from the top of the town wall look off 
on the road which his son took as he left 
him. Long and earnestly does he gaze; 
and now he catches sight of a distant 
object, which has the appearance of a man, 
walking slowly toward the town. "It may 
be my son," says the father, half aloud. 



96 LOST AND FO UND. 

He watches the traveler intently, and, as 
he draws nearer, there is that in the man- 
ner of his walk that greatly excites the 
old man. 

Nearer and nearer comes the man; and 
now the father finds himself going forward 
to meet him. As he approaches, he be- 
comes more and more certain that his son 
is before him. And then, when he dis- 
covers that it is really his boy, his heart 
fills with the deepest compassion. All his 
son's wretchedness can not repel his fa- 
therly mercy and love. Nay, this only 
causes the heart of the father to feel for 
him more deeply than he otherwise could. 
His eyes fill with tears, as his heart swells 
with compassion; and so, running forward, 
he falls on his neck and kisses him. So did 
Joseph, when he made himself known to 
his brethren: "He fell upon his brother 



' 

















N '-;-?£- : 






THE SON. 97 

Benjamin's neck, and wept; and Benjamin 
wept upon his neck. Moreover, he kissed 
all his brethren, and wept upon them : and 
after that his brethren talked with him." 
Also, when Joseph met his father in 
Goshen, "he fell on his neck, and wept on 
his neck a good while." 

How astonishing this must have been 
to Zaza. He was, perhaps, expecting a 
rough reception, and may have prepared 
his confession in view of having his father 
receive him, if he did at all, with great 
coldness. But as he has been received 
with so much tenderness, he is the more 
inclined to tell him all that is in his heart. 
To the father the meeting is one of un- 
mixed delight, and it may be he is almost 
overcome with transports of joy; but in 
the mind of the son there is a remem- 
brance of all his shameful life, which he 

7 



98 LOST AND FOUND. 

knows has caused his father much unnec- 
essary pain. 

And now, as they walk toward the 
house, Zaza informs his father of all his 
sinful course of life, how he lived with the 
sinful and the vile, what depths of wicked- 
ness and vice he fell into, and startles his 
father by his knowledge of so much evil. 
And then, as they enter the gate to the 
house, Zaza, feeling that he is unworthy to 
enter that house as a son, makes the con- 
fession he has prepared for his father's ear : 

"Father, I have sinned against Heaven 
and in thy sight, and am no more worthy 
to be be called thy son." 

But the father would not let him finish 
the speech he had prepared, but interrupted 
him by calling out to the servants, who 
stood in great surprise about them : 

"Bring from the closets the very best 



THE SON. 99 

garment you can find, and place it on him ; 
and place a beautiful ring on his hand; 
and cover his bare feet with shoes. Then 
bring the fattest calf that can be found in 
the herd, kill it, and prepare it for the 
table. Then let us eat and be very joyful; 
for this is my son, who was just as though 
he had been dead, and had come to life 
again. He was lost, and now he is found." 



100 LOST AND FOUND. 



CHAPTER IV. 

In this delightful scene is presented to 
us, as in a picture, the manner in which 
our Heavenly Father will receive all who 
come to him with true repentance and 
heart-felt sorrow for their sin. So soon as 
we rise from our position of abject sin and 
vice, he sees us and helps us; yea, before 
we rise, it is he who sends his Holy Spirit 
to inform us of our true condition. None 
of us, however wise, would ever. know our 
sins, were it not that God in his great 
mercy shines into our hearts to give us a 
knowledge of ourselves and our sins. If 
some one should go into a darkened room 
and begin to sweep, thaugh he might raise 



THE SON. 101 

considerable dust, yet he might perceive it 
not until he opened the blinds or raised 
the curtains somewhat — when, the sun 
shining across the room, there would be 
seen great numbers of small particles and 
motes filling all the air of the apartment. 
So, we can not know how bad our hearts 
are till God's Spirit shines into them; and 
then we see them just as bad as they are, 
and know how full they are of sin. 0, 
that God may thus enlighten the heart of 
every reader of this book, and make plain 
the depravity therein, that he may be led 
to the fountain of cleansing " opened in the 
house of David!" 

Like the poor young man we are writing 
of, we also are, in our natural state, ignorant 
of our true condition ; and not only so, but 
prone to suppose that we are much better 
off than we really are. So the Lord says 



102 LOST AND FOUND. 

to us: " Because thou sayest, I am rich, 
arid increased with goods, and have need 
of nothing; and knowest not that thou art 
wretched, and miserable, and poor, and 
blind, and naked: I counsel thee to buy 
of me gold tried in the fire, that thou 
mayest be rich; and white raiment, that 
thou mayest be clothed, and that the 
shame of thy nakedness do not appear; 
and anoint thine eyes with eyesalve, that 
thou mayest see." 

How sad that some who are lost on the 
dark mountains of sin should hate the 
light by which alone they can be led into 
the bright, happy vale of Gospel peace and 
joy. It is as though a guide were leading 
a man across a lonely country, where there 
are many pitfalls and precipices. The 
guide has a lantern ; and, as the darkness 
grows more and more dense, he holds the 



THE SON. 103 

lantern closer to the ground, that he may 
tell the better where he is. The man who 
is being led across to his home sets upon 
the guide, blows out the light, breaks the 
lantern in pieces, and so injures the guide 
that he can not walk. You would say, 
" 0, w T hat a foolish man, to act thus when 
he does not know the way at all, and will 
now very likely perish all alone in the wild 
country so full of dangerous places and 
beasts of prey!" Yes; foolish indeed is 
the man who would so act, yet no more 
foolish than the man who " quenches the 
Spirit" and " grieves" the Holy Ghost. 
The blessed Spirit of God alone can show 
us the way to the Father; and yet men so 
act, are so much in love with the darkness 
of sin, that they wish to put out the light 
of God, and are so unwilling to obey the 
warning voice of the Spirit, that it leaves 



104 LOST AND FO UND. 

them to themselves; and, when they are 
so left, terrible indeed is their condition. 
0, my readers, be not thus indifferent to 
God's kindness ! Treat not with indiffer- 
ence or neglect that sweet and gentle 
monitor who comes to us to lure us from 
the deceitful paths of sin into the pleasant 
but narrow way that leads to life. Let us 
all gladly obey his voice, and fly to Christ, 
who alone has both the willingness and the 
power to save us. 

It is very probable that when Zaza 
came repenting to his father he felt great 
shame and pain of heart. Yet it is just 
as probable that he also felt, as he con- 
fessed his sins, a peculiar delight; and 
very certain it is that, as we come to 
God in deep contrition and humility, 
we shall feel a sweet pleasure in the 
very act of repentance. One of our 



THE SON. 105 

hymns calls these feelings "the mystic 
joys of penitence:" 

11 The godly fear, the pleasing smart, 
The meltings of a broken heart, 
The tears that tell your sins forgiven, 
The sighs that waft your souls to heaven. v 

One day a gentleman went into an 
asylum where there was a large number 
of deaf and dumb children. He asked 
them, in writing, several questions, and 
among them was this: "What is that 
action of the mind, or emotion, which 
gives you the most delight?" One of the 
children wrote on a slate, "Hope ;" an- 
other wrote, "Gratitude;" and another, 
"The assurance of the love of others;" 
but a little girl, who seemed to have a 
keener sense of real enjoyment, or who 
had been through a deeper experience, 
wrote on her slate, "Repentance." So we 
shall find that it is no matter whether we 



106 LOST AND FO UND. 

gain any thing by it or not, when we have 
done wrong, to repent of the wrong and 
sorrow for our sin is very delightful; and 
the more humble and contrite we feel, so 
much deeper will be the "joys which from 
repentance flow." Lower and lower let us 
sink in our self-abasement before God, and 
then all the higher will God exalt us in 
the blessedness of the divine life, so full 
of true comfort and the peace of God. 

God does not wish us to be merely his 
servants, though we shall find this a very 
happy condition, and the service of God a 
most delightful one; but he desires that 
we should be his sons and daughters. 
So the apostle John exclaims: " Behold, 
what manner of love the Father hath be- 
stowed upon us, that we should be called 
the sons of God !" And in Paul's writings 
we read : " Wherefore come out from among 



THE SON. 107 

them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, 
and touch not the unclean ; and I will re- 
ceive you, and will be a Father unto you, 
and ye shall be my sons and daughters, 
saith the Lord Almighty." 



108 LOST AND FO UND. 



CHAPTER V. 

Zaza was clothed with rags; but he was 
not to wear these any longer. The best 
robe was brought and placed on him. So 
there is for us the robe of Christ's right- 
eousness, which God the Father puts on 
us that we may be fit to appear at the 
marriage supper. And what a garment is 
this ! A lady was once heard to say that 
she found a greater support from a beauti- 
ful, well-fitting dress, when in company, 
than from the possession of great virtues. 
So, many of us take pride in our raiment, 
and rely on the outward appearance in 
associating with others here in this world; 
but what shall we do when Ave come to the 



THE SON. 109 

day in which there shall be a division of 
the good and the bad, and when all our 
earthly titles and costly apparel will avail 
us nothing so far as concerns fitting us for 
the heavenly world? We wish to mingle 
with the angels and the holy ones w r ho 
have overcome, and aro safe in the home 
of the blessed; but if we would stand 
with boldness in the day of judgment, and 
mingle without shame among the throng 
about the throne, we must have on the 
robe of Christ's righteousness. Then all 
will be well; and we shall not be cast into 
the outer darkness, where there is weeping 
and wailing and gnashing of teeth. 

"Put a ring on his hand," said the 
father. This giving of a ring to another 
signified, in some cases, the bestowal of 
authority. When Joseph had told Pharaoh 
the interpretation of his dreams, Pharaoh 



110 LOST AND FOUND. 

made him next in power to himself in 
Egypt, and to indicate this "he took off 
his ring from his hand and put it upon 
Joseph's hand." Thus also did King 
Ahasuerus to Haman and Mordecai, when 
he honored them by placing them one after 
the other in the highest place. The ring 
was also used in ancient times as a seal; 
and even now in some Eastern countries it 
is still so used, kings thus stamping their 
names or initials, because they can not, in 
some cases, write them. But in the case 
of the returning son the ring was put on 
his hand to show the father's love and 
friendship. So God will give us a token 
of his love and friendship, and a sign that 
we are adopted into his family; and that 
sign or token is the witness of the Spirit, 
which tells us that our sins are forgiven, 
and that we are heirs of God and joint 



THE SON. Ill 

heirs with Jesus Christ. how thankful 
we should be that God the Father is so 
gracious unto us as to grant us this sure 
evidence of our acceptance! Here are 
some verses of one of our hymns which 
refers to this subject: 

" His Spirit, which he gave, 
Now dwells in us, we know; 
The witness in ourselves we have, 
And all its fruits we show. 

The meek and lowly heart, 

That in our Savior was, 
To us his Spirit does impart, 

And signs us with his cross. 

Our nature 's turned, our mind 
Transformed in all its powers; 

And both the witnesses are joined — 
Thy Spirit, Lord, with ours." 

To go barefoot is a sign of humiliation 
and mourning; and therefore David, when 
his ungrateful son Absalom revolted against 
him, "went up by the ascent of Mount 
Olivet, and wept as he went up, and had 



112 LOST AND FO UND. 

his head covered, and he went barefoot." 
That was to show how grieved he felt at 
the unnatural conduct of the son whom he 
so greatly loved as to wish that he had 
died for him, when he was told that he had 
been slain. Perhaps Zaza may not have 
been obliged to be barefoot, but had thus 
taken off his shoes to show his grief at 
having been so sinful, and his humiliation 
in view of his many transgressions. But 
be this as it may, his father did not wish 
him to continue in grief, neither did he 
wish to humble him unnecessarily; so he 
told the servants to put shoes on his feet, 
and thus let him know that he was wel- 
come to his place as a son, and that the 
father desired him to walk in the path of 
filial obedience and enjoyment. 

If we humble ourselves in the sight of 
God he will exalt, he will honor us, and 



THE SON. 113 

give us strength to walk continually in the 
way of his commandments. He will so 
prepare our hearts by the preparation of 
the Gospel of peace, with which the 
apostle says we are to clothe our feet 
(Ephesians vi, 15), that we shall serve 
him with a willing mind, and delight to 
glorify him in all we do and say — walking 
in the light as his sons, until he shall call 
us to walk the delightful streets of the New 
Jerusalem, safe from thorns and flints. 

But the father did not think it enough 
for his son to be clothed, and have a ring, 
and have shoes on his feet; they must also 
have a feast and greatly rejoice at the 
return of the lost one. So he gave orders 
that the fatted calf should be killed. It is 
called the fatted calf. This may have been 
because the father kept a certain calf fat 
at all times, so that he might be in readiness 



114 LOST AND FO TJND. 

to celebrate the return of his son when- 
ever he should come. Or it may be this 
calf was fatted for some other feast, for 
which they had been preparing — the com- 
ing of some great man to the house, or 
even some great religious feast — and that 
the father thought the return of his son 
was an event more worthy to be celebrated 
by killing the calf, and eating it with re- 
joicing, than any other event, even though 
it should pertain to religious things. This 
may teach us that the return of sinners to 
God is an event which God thinks more 
of than any other, and that he had rather 
have those who feel they are lost and un- 
done come to his feet, and repent, than 
to look upon the most solemn religious 
assembly, where the hearts of the people 
are not engaged, or the most select and 
tastefully dressed congregation, who might 



THE SON. 115 

go through the forms of worship while 
their minds were wholly taken up with 
the vanities of the world. 



116 LOST AND FO UND. 



CHAPTER VI. 

There was not only eating at this feast, 
but there was music and dancing; for it is 
said the elder son heard these, as he came 
near the house. It was, and is, a very- 
general custom among what are called 
Oriental nations to entertain friends and 
guests with music and dancing. Thus 
Miss Seward, who went round the world 
lately with the Hon. W. H. Seward, tells 
us that the party were several times 
entertained by musicians and dancing- 
girls coming in and performing before 
them. But in all cases these musicians 
were hired musicians, and so also with the 
dancers. They were employed as well at 



THE SON. 117 

funerals as at marriages and other occa- 
sions of festivity, only at funerals the 
ones who danced at feasts would then 
mourn. So when Christ w r ent to raise the 
daughter of Jairus he found these hired 
performers making a great noise and la- 
menting; and these doubtless were the 
ones who, when Christ said, "She is not 
dead, but sleepeth," laughed him to scorn, 
so utterly were they without true feelings 
of condolence and courtesy. 

Some persons have supposed that, in 
this dancing at the return of the prodigal 
son, there is a warrant for the dancing that 
is practiced in these times by the vain, the 
giddy, and the thoughtless; but nothing- 
could be farther from the truth. Among 
the Jews, as well as among most other 
Eastern nations, the men and women, 
boys and girls, never danced together, but 



118 LOST AND FO UNB. 

always apart. These hired dancers were 
generally girls, and once in a while girls 
of high birth; but this was such a seldom 
occurrence, a high-born girl dancing at a 
feast, that when Salome, the daughter of 
Herodias, danced before her uncle and 
father-in-law, Herod Antipas, he was so 
much pleased that he promised, with an 
oath, and probably under the influence of 
wine, to give her whatsoever she should ask, 
even though it were the half of his king- 
dom. And this dancing resulted in the 
sad death of that good and great man, 
John the Baptist. This dancing was also, 
as a general thing, an expression of joy, so 
much so that it is placed in opposition to 
mourning in many places in the Scripture, 
as in Ecclesiastes iii, 4: "A time to mourn 
and a time to dance;" which can not mean 
that there is a time when it is right to 



THE SON, 119 

dance in any way we please — for then the 
third verse of the same chapter would 
make it right for us to kill in any way we 
pleased. 

The modern kind of dancing, consisting 
of a large number of men and women and 
children getting together and spending the 
whole night in cutting foolish figures about 
the floor, when they should be asleep, has 
no Scriptural warrant at at all, but is of 
the same character as those festivities 
which are called revelings in Galatians v, 
21, and 1 Peter iv, 3, which are severely 
condemned as a work of the flesh, and 
placed alongside the most terrible of sins 
and iniquities, to show how God abhors 
them. 

But now let us return to the house, and 
behold this company of friends, servants, 
and neighbors rejoicing over the return of 



120 LOST AND FO UND. 

the long-lost son. The guests are probably 
reclining on couches about -one or more 
tables, in a large room called the guest- 
chamber. The father occupies the center 
of the couch at the head of the main 
table, and is reclining on his left side, 
resting on the elbow of his left arm, so 
that his right arm may be free to convey 
the food to his mouth. Right before the 
father, also reclining on his left arm, is the 
son; and as he leans back his head toward 
his father he touches his father's bosom — 
and this was what was called lying in 
one's bosom. Thus John was in the bosom 
of Christ when they were partaking of the 
Last Supper. And this is the reason why 
it is said that Lazarus was carried by 
angels to Abraham's bosom, because heaven 
was considered by the Jews under the 
figure of a feast, where Abraham presided 



THE SON. 121 

and had the chief place; and Jesus, in 
order to show how happy the poor beggar 
was, and how greatly his state differed 
from the one he suffered here, represented 
him as the second in rank and enjoyment 
at the heavenly banquet. 

The friends and neighbors, who have 
been called in to rejoice with the glad 
father, look at the son thus reclining in the 
bosom of the father, and they smile one to 
another, and express their joy and pleasure 
in exclamations of gladness; while the 
hired musicians strike up a more exhilar- 
ating strain on their instruments, and the 
hired dancers endeavor to express the 
common joy by brisker movements, and 
by appropriate gestures and clapping of 
their hands. What a bright and happy 
scene! All are full of enjoyment. The 
servants are bringing in dish after dish of 



122 LOST AND FO UND. 

savory meat, such as Isaac wished his son 
Esau to prepare for him, and pouring forth 
into the cups of the guests the sweet, rich, 
unfermented wine, so nutritious and pal- 
atable; the lights are flashing, — and over 
all is diffused an air of comfort, repose, 
and heart-felt enjoyment. 

So the Savior tells us there is joy in 
heaven over one sinner that repenteth. 
In those bright and heavenly mansions, 
when the news is brought that a poor, 
lost, forlorn son of Adam has given up his 
wanderings and returned to God through 
Jesus, then all along the hosts of heaven 
there sound glad acclamations of joy, and 
there is felt a greater gladness than could 
possibly exist on account of any other oc- 
currence whatever. And these angels are 
not hired performers ! No ! From the 
depths of their hearts they rejoice, because 



THE SON. 123 

they love the same Savior that we love, 
and are glad to see him honored by the 
penitence and faith of the most wretched 
and sinful of all earth's inhabitants. Just 
one sinner's repentance makes them rejoice. 
And are you a sinner, reader? Have you 
never shed the tear of sorrow for sin, nor 
bowed yourself in contrition before God? 
Why not now cause angels to rejoice as 
you submit your stubborn heart to the 
refining power of divine grace, and make 
heaven glad at the return of one more 
wanderer ? 

" Through all the courts the tidings flew, 
And spread the joy around ; 
The angels tuned their harps anew, — 
The long-lost son is found." 



124 LOST AND FOUND. 



CHAPTER VII. 

But now we must turn to another scene. 
There is one who does not enjoy all this 
excitement, and who is unwilling to mingle 
in these festivities. We step out of the 
house where it is all light and joyfulness, 
and find that the sun has just set, and 
darkness is rapidly coming on, as it always 
does in those countries which are near the 
Equator, the stars are beginning to appear, 
and the cattle are returning to their stalls. 
There is approaching the gate of the town 
a man, who walks as though he were very 
tired. It is the elder son, the brother of 
the wanderer who is inside the house en- 
joying so much. He has been in the 



THE SON. 125 

fields, hard at work, no doubt; and now 
returns from his daily labor to be refreshed 
by food and sleep, hoping also to meet a 
welcome from his father, and a word of 
praise also for the faithful manner in which 
he has been doing his work. As he draws 
near the house he finds that his father is 
not outside to welcome him, and perhaps 
this makes him feel a little unpleasantly. 
He sees that the house is all lit up, and he 
hears the music and dancing which is going 
on within, and this makes him feel still 
more surly. He does not go in and see 
what is going on, and why there is so 
much rejoicing, though he might know 
that his father would not have such a time 
of rejoicing unless there was something to 
rejoice at; but he sharply calls a servant, 
and demands of him what all these things 
mean. 



126 LOST AND FOUND. 

" What is this music for," asks he, " and 
why is this dancing going on? It would 
seem that a feast has been made, and 
nothing has been said to me about it." 

" 0, a very joyful event has taken place," 
says the servant. "What do you think? 
Nothing less than the return of your 
brother! He who was so long away has 
returned, and your father feels very glad 
about it, and has killed the calf which has 
been fatted for some special occasion, be- 
cause he has at last received him safe 
and sound." 

The servant thought this piece of pleas- 
ant news would make the brother feel very 
joyful; but what was his surprise to see 
the brother's brows lower, and his face 
grow pale! 

"Why do you not go in and see your 
brother, and rejoice with those who are 



THE SON. 127 

welcoming him to his home after his long 
absence ?" 

"I go in? Not I. If my father thinks 
so much of one who has done so wickedly, 
as we have heard this son of his has done, 
and can not spare time to come out and 
welcome me, after all my hard work, why 
he can rejoice without me. What a fool I 
am to work so hard, and try to please my 
father, when this son of his, who has led 
an idle and sinful life, is better off in my 
my father's love than I! No, indeed; I 
do n't go in to any such performances." 

So he was extremely angry, and utterly 
refused to greet his brother and unite in 
the joy of his father. 

Here we see the results of envy. How 
many times we lose great pleasures and 
benefits by getting angry at the prosperity 
and success of others, and foolishly staying 



128 LOST AND FO UND. 

away from places and companies where we 
might experience much enjoyment, if we 
would only look upon ourselves in a proper 
light, and not think more highly of our- 
selves than we ought to think, or begrudge 
others the happiness they feel! 

Now the servant probably goes in and 
tells the father that the elder son is with- 
out and angrily refuses to come in. The 
father therefore rises, and retires at once, 
in order to persuade him to enter. He 
looks very wrathful at his father as he ap- 
proaches; for he feels that he, and he 
alone, has a right to that father's good will 
and love. 

"Come in, my son; come in," cries the 
father. "Rejoice with us in the feast at 
the return of your brother, who has at last 
come to make glad the heart of his father, 
and prevent his gray hairs from going down 



THE SON. 129 

with sorrow to the grave. Be not angry; 
but come in at once, and be merry." 

But these words were lost on the stub- 
born son, and he replied to his father in 
such a manner as to show his selfishness 
and envy and rage. First he praised 
himself: 

"Just remember how many years I have 
served thee, and all this time I have kept 
the commandments you gave me — never 
committing a single fault — and yet you 
never thought enough of me to give me a 
kid (the littlest, poorest goat in the herd), 
in order that I might have a feast and 
invite my companions; but just as soon as 
this son of yours comes home, after having 
wasted your goods on shameful women, 
why, you go to work and kill the nicely 
fatted calf, the very best one in all the 
stalls, and have a great time." 



130 LOST AND FOUND. 

What an evil heart this brother must 
have had, to think so little of the return 
of his poor, starving, naked, barefoot 
brother, and to find such fault with his 
father just because he had been kind to 
that son, whom he loved, and whom he 
had given up as dead! But the father 
did not appear to take any affront at this 
language. He loved this elder son also, 
and wished him to have a different dispo- 
sition from what he seemed to have, judg- 
ing from his w r ords. So he kindly and 
and soothingly said : 

"My son, remember that you are always 
with me; you have me as your constant 
companion, and every thing that I have is 
yours — not only the goods which I gave 
you when your brother went away, but my 
love and sympathy and care and help in 
all the arrangements and employments of 



THE SON. 131 

the homestead. It was certainly a very 
proper thing for us to do to make this 
feast and have a merry time, being glad 
with all our hearts; for this thy brother 
was the same as though he were dead and 
had come to life again— he was as though 
he had been entirely lost in a desolate wil- 
derness, and had been found and restored 
to his home and friends." 



1 32 LOST AND FO UND. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

This elder son represents those who find 
fault with Jesus for receiving sinners and 
eating with them. "When Jesus was on 
earth there were people called Pharisees, 
who were very proud, and thought that 
they alone had a claim on the love of God. 
They thought they were the chosen people, 
and that no others ought to dare to trust 
in God, especially if they did not do just 
as the Pharisees told them to do. They 
would have thought very well of Jesus if, 
when he came, he had flattered them and 
associated with them alone. How highly 
they would have spoken of Jesus if he 
had never reproved them for their hypocrisy 



THE SON. 133 

and formality, and treated the poor and 
downtrodden with contempt! But Jesus 
did not do this. He seemed to prefer the 
company of the poor to that of the rich, 
though he never despised the rich because 
they were rich, neither should we. He 
seemed to delight to call the common 
people about him, and teach them all 
about the kingdom of heaven. And not 
only so, but when opportunity offered he 
would sit down to eat with those who were 
called sinners, and those public men who 
collected the taxes from the people, and 
many of whom were extortioners, and 
heartily despised by these arrogant Phar- 
isees who thought the Jew r ish nation was 
the greatest on earth, and ought not to be 
under the rule of any other. They would 
not listen with a teachable spirit to the 
words of Jesus, nor obey what he said; 



134 LOST AND FO UND. 

neither would let others do so if they could 
help it. You have heard the story of the 
dog in the manger, I have no doubt, that 
would not eat the hay himself, nor let the 
cows which wished to eat it have a single 
bite. So these proud men, who thought 
they were the most religious people in the 
world, were horrified when Jesus went and 
sat down with the poorest and worst men 
and ate with them; and they found a great 
deal of fault because these poor sinners 
were invited to the Gospel feast. Just 
like the elder son, they became very angry 
when the favor of heaven was bestowed on 
others than themselves. 

You will recollect, too, that the brother 
of Zaza said to his father, "When this thy 
son was come." He did not wish to own 
him as his brother, and would throw all 
the disgrace of his conduct on the father. 



THE SON. 135 

And not only so, but he would make this 
conduct worse than it really was, if possi- 
ble; and so he speaks of his brother hav- 
ing spent his money and other possessions 
in the company of abandoned women, 
though there is nothing to show this be- 
yond the mere surmise of the elder son. 
Then he went still farther, and intimated 
that his younger brother had wasted what 
was not his own, when he said, "Which 
hath devoured thy living;" as though 
what Zaza had spent was not entirely 
his own. 

Thus he made out in his envy and anger 
just as bad a case as he could. And so 
the Pharisees called the sinners about 
them hard names, and abused them, mak- 
ing their case worse than it really was; 
but Jesus saw through all this, and he told 
them that these very ones whom they 



136 LOST AND FO UNI). 

called names would go into the kingdom 
of heaven before them. 

Now this spirit, which was in the Phar- 
isees in Jesus' day, is in many people who 
live in our day. They seem to think that 
Jesus came to die only for the rich and the 
great, and despise the poor, being unwilling 
that the lowly and sinful should enjoy any 
of the advantages which they possess. 

This spirit shows itself when people 
build great and splendid churches, fin- 
ishing them with great care, and adorn- 
ing them with much elegance, and then 
look with aversion on the poor and the 
meanly dressed, as though they had no 
right to enter such a magnificent building 
and worship God amid such elegant adorn- 
ments. I have heard of some of these 
proud people who were shown the foolish- 
ness of such feelings. On one Sunday a 



THE SON. 137 

man entered one of the fine churches of 
New York City. It was an elegant church, 
and richly decorated within and without; 
but he was arrayed in a shabby-looking 
cloak, which covered the most of his per- 
son. When he entered the church, nobody 
paid him any attention, till one of the 
ushers came to him and asked him roughly 
if he wished a seat. He replied that he 
did, and the usher placed him in a pew 
which was reserved for any poor or un- 
known person who might come in. The 
service proceeded; and as the man became 
somewhat warm he allowed the cloak to 
slip from off his shoulder, and this revealed 
the shoulder-straps of a major-general in the 
United States army. Now, as this was 
seen by gentlemen about him, one after 
another politely invited the stranger to 
take a seat in his pew ; but all these invi- 



138 LOST AND FO UND. 

tations were respectfully declined, and 
when the services were ended the gentle- 
man in the shabby cloak left the church, 
entered a fine carriage waiting for him, 
and drove rapidly away. It was after- 
ward found that the stranger was Major- 
General N. P. Banks. 

This spirit of ill-feeling at the reception 
of the poor by the Savior is a very baleful 
one. Let us never indulge it, but rather 
be glad that all are invited to the Savior's 
heart of love. How mean it would appear 
if, when a little boy or girl should be lost 
and after a long search found again, piere 
should be some one to object to the general 
joy and say,, "I do n't see what you want 
to make so much fuss over a child for!" 
Let us rejoice that the poorest and the 
wickedest are sought after- by the Savior, 
and that there is a warm welcome waiting 



THE SON. 139 

for all who will come humbly knocking at 
the gate. 

It is a sad thing to be lost in sin; and 
yet we may even rejoice to hear one say, 
"I am lost!" as this shows he knows his 
condition, and is ready to be told the glad 
tidings that Christ came to save just such 
as he feels himself to be. 

Some of you have heard, I suppose, of 
the great Methodist preacher, George 
Whitefield. This very successful minister 
had a brother who became converted, and 
was for some years an earnest, sincere 
Christian. But he declined in religion, 
and finally wandered far off from the 
Savior, neglecting his duty, and becoming 
again quite wicked. One afternoon he 
heard his brother George preach, and this 
again awakened him, and he went away 
in great distress of mind. While he w r as 



140 LOST AND FO UND. 

sitting at the supper-table he groaned, and 
could neither eat nor drink, saying, again 
and again: 

< C I am a lost man !" 

There was a lady present called the 
Countess of Huntingdon, a noble lady of 
England, who counted herself happy to be 
a follower of Jesus, and to belong to the 
Methodists, though in that early day they 
were greatly despised. This lady sat op- 
posite this troubled man at the table, and 
when she heard him say, "I am a lost 
man!" she exclaimed: 

u I am glad of it ; I am glad of it." 

"It is wicked in you to say you are glad 
I am a lost man," said he. 

"I repeat it," said she; "I am heartily 
glad of it." 

He looked at her, astonished at what 
seemed to him the very essence of barbarity. 



THE SON. 141 

"I am glad of it," said she, "because it 
is written, ' The Son of man came to seek 
and to save that which was lost.' " 

Then the tears began to roll down his 
cheeks as he said : 

"What a precious Scripture truth is 
that! And how is it that it comes with 
such power to my mind? Madam," 
said he, "I bless God for that. Then he 
will save me. I trust my soul in his hands; 
he has forgiven me." 

Soon after he said this, he went out of 
the room and began to feel very sick, and 
all at once, without any other forewarning, 
fell down and died. 

what a mercy it was that this man 
felt that he was a lost man, and that 
the good lady spoke that word in season 
to him, so that he was directed to the 
Savior, and, trusting in him, found again 



142 LOST AND FOUND. 

the pardon of his sins and acceptance 
with God before death came and fixed 
his state forever! 



THE SON. 143 



CHAPTER IX. 

What a sad thing it is to be lost ! To 
be lost means to be away from home and 
friends and comforts. It may be at sea, 
or in the forest, or on the prairie; but, 
wherever it is that one is lost, he finds 
that he has no pleasant home-roof to cover 
his head, or friends to sympathize with 
him and help him. He becomes hungry, 
and wishes for some of the delightful food 
he once ate with so much relish. Perhaps 
he has closed his eyes to think, and opens 
them to look on the food he imagines is 
before him; but he looks in vain — nothing 
but the level sea is before him, or the dry 
leaves of the forest, or the long grass of 



144 LOST AND FO UND. 

the prairie. He becomes weary, and would 
be so much pleased to recline his fatigued 
body on the easy bed of his attractive 
home; but as he opens his eyes he finds 
nothing to lie on but the hard, cold ground, 
the frozen snow, or the single plank which 
keeps him from a watery grave. He is 
getting very weak, and would be so greatly 
pleased to have a hand to support him as 
he staggers along in his misery; but no 
hand is stretched out to his aid, and he 
opens his eyes to find himself alone, all, all 
alone, with many miles between him and 
the friends he so much loves. 

So with those who are lost in sin. 
They are far from their Father's house, 
and the comforts which that home affords. 
They hunger; but they find no food to 
satisfy that hunger in the world. They 
thirst; but they drink of the salt, bitter 



THE SON. 145 

waters of sin, only to be made the more 
thirsty thereby. They look for help to 
their sinful companions; but they find that 
the ungodly men about them are only like 
so many broken reeds, which fail them in 
the day of distress. They have no true 
friend to aid them; and how sad is their 
condition, thus without a single one in 
whom they may trust! 

But to be lost means to be exposed to 
great dangers. If a man is lost in a forest, 
he is in danger of being devoured by wild 
beasts, "Wild animals lurk in every jungle 
or covert, to pounce on the unwary trav- 
eler and tear him to pieces. The stream 
he may wish to cross, on the frail limb, or 
by swimming, may overwhelm him in its 
waters. In the mountains, the great ra- 
vine or cavern yawns to devour him, as he 
makes a misstep, and is hurled down many 

10 



146 LOST AND FOUND. 

feet to certain death. If it is in the 
snowy regions of the North that he is lost, 
then the icy cold waits to creep over him 
and still the currents of his life-blood. If 
in the tropical climate, there the intense 
heat may prostrate him, venomous insects 
may sting him, or the deadly miasm may 
steal into his system, and soon cause him 
to lie down in death. 

So with the sinner away from God, in 
the presence of his enemies. Satan al- 
ways has his servants ready to tempt and 
destroy. The rum-seller tempts with his 
poisonous drinks, the gambler tempts with 
his cards and his lotteries and other games 
of chance, the wicked woman allures him 
him to ruin, and the infidel poisons his 
mind with deadly error. There are pit- 
falls on every hand, and dark precipices 
of sin all across the path of the worldling, 



THE SON. 147 

waiting to catch his unwary feet and 
hasten his destruction. Oh how many 
dangers threaten the man or woman, or 
even the child, who is lost in sin, and 
wandering in the broad road that leads 
to destruction! 

But to be lost means also to be liable to 
great self-deception. It has been said by 
some that when a man is lost on the prairie, 
or in the woods, he is very likely to travel 
around in a circle, while he thinks he is 
making headway in the direction he wishes 
to go. This has been doubted by others, but 
a gentleman writing to a New York paper 
from Texas confirms the fact, and says : 

"It is a fact well known to all frontiers- 
men that, when persons are bewildered, they 
frequently travel in a perfect circle, some- 
times keeping the same track till they have 
made half a dozen equal rounds ; at other 



148 LOST AND FO UND. 

times making the circle larger or smaller 
each time. It is not by any means always 
the case, when a person is lost; but it is so 
frequent that it is within the experience 
of every one who has been much in the 
woods. In calm and cloudy weather, and 
in a country of much sameness of appear- 
ance, the best woodsmen get so bewildered 
as to Hake the circles/ Persons not ac- 
customed to the woods will sometimes do 
so when the sun is shining and a steady 
breeze is blowing. On the level or gulf 
prairies of this country, on a calm, foggy 
morning, no man can travel without a road, 
It is an incident of every-day occurrence, 
in the Spring and Fall seasons, that men 
are thus becalmed on the prairie as effectu- 
ally as are ships at sea. Nor will a com- 
pass mend the matter; for it can not be 
carried steadily enough to keep its meridian, 



THE SON. 149 

and the course it points can not be kept 
for fifty yards. If a man attempts it, he 
will make a circle and come back to the 
place he started from. The circle will be 
large or small, generally, in proportion to 
the density of the fog — sometimes only a 
hundred yards in diameter; at other times 
a mile, but seldom more. The circles thus 
made are perfect. This kind of wandering 
seems to arise from an attempt to go a 
straight course when there is nothing to 
guide the senses, or when the usual guides 
of sun, wind, or the general contour of the 
country are disregarded. It rarely befalls 
children, who do not attempt to go on a 
course, but only run from one visible point 
to another equally perceptible." 

I have heard of a man who thus "took 
the circles," as they say, and who walked 
on in the snow, thinking that he was going 



150 LOST AND FOUND. 

straight ahead. Still he had some little 
misgiving, till at last he saw the tracks of 
another man, and then he said to himself, 
"I am all right now; for here are the foot- 
steps of another man, and so I am certainly 
on the right track." On he went; and at 
last he came to a place where another man 
seemed to come into the path, and then he 
was surer yet, and went on again with a 
light heart, till, after a while, he came to 
a third track coming into the path where 
he was going. Thinking this was a little 
strange, he thought he would examine the 
prints of the feet more closely, when what 
was his great surprise to find that he had 
been walking round and round, these 
tracks all being his own, and that he had 
made no real headway at all. 

So, I have thought, with those who are 
lost on the wide, barren heaths of ungod- 



THE SON 151 

liness. They go round and round, think- 
ing, no doubt, that they are making prog- 
ress straight toward the heavenly city; 
but really only wearing out their lives in 
a round of follies, and in a circle of gayety 
and iniquity, which will at last narrow 
down to the most insipid and unsatisfac- 
tory of conditions. Some who are thus 
lost find what seems to them the track 
of others walking the same way; and 
yet this may be but their own imagina- 
tions, and they may suppose they have 
company, when it is only the foolish ideas 
of their own hearts. 

If w r e would not be thus forever going 
round and round in the witches' circle 
which the devil has formed for our feet, 
we must break away from his enchant- 
ment, and steer a straight course toward 
our Father's house. Many, how many ! 



152 LOST AND FOUND. 

have sunk down, never to rise again; 
and how many more are apparently run- 
ning on in the same foolish and ruinous 
course. 



THE SON. 153 



CHAPTER X. 

There is another deception to which a 
lost man is liable, and that is to be drawn 
away by what is called the mirage. All 
of my readers who have studied natural 
philosophy have come to some knowledge 
of this strange thing, and some of them 
may have seen it. A mirage is caused by 
the reflection of rays from distant objects, 
or the sky, on a stratum of hot air rising 
from the burning sands or heated earth, so 
that the traveler supposes that he sees a 
lake of water in the distance, in whose 
waters he may cool his heated body, or 
slake his severe thirst. 

A wanderer in the desert is very likely 



1 54 LOST AND FO UNI). 

to be deceived by this illusion. He has 
journeyed many miles perhaps, and is lost 
from the caravan with which he was trav- 
eling. He shouts, but all in vain; and 
now struggles on to get to a place of 
safety. His efforts not only weary him, 
but produce a great thirst, and he has not 
the means of satisfying it. The sun beats 
fiercely upon his head, and the reflected 
heat burns his face. He feels as though 
he were in a furnace. At last he sees an 
object in the distance, and, gazing intently, 
finds it is a solitary palm-tree, which ap- 
pears to stand by the shore of a beautiful 
lake. 0, if he may but reach that water, 
and take just one refreshing draught, it 
seems as though he would be willing to 
die! He plods on with renewed courage 
toward the object of his desire, but it 
seems to be a great way off. Hour after 



THE SON. 155 

hour he walks, and yet finds that it is in 
the distance. Then the dreadful thought 
comes that it is a deception; and so does 
this dispirit him that he sinks down in 
despair, and, with eyes staring in the di- 
rection of the false lake, he perishes in his 
loneliness and agony. 

We are all journeying through life, and 
there are many things about us to allure 
and deceive. Lost in the desert of sinful 
worldliness, we are very apt to see in the 
distance what appenr to be delightful 
places and pleasant retreats; but as we 
endeavor to approach them these desirable 
things recede, and finally we are left to 
mourn when all hope is gone, and say, 
"How have I hated instruction!" 

But to be lost, and remain lost, means 
that one will certainly perish. This 
thought is what makes a lost condition, 



156 LOST AND FO UND. 

when it is known to be such, one of great 
trouble and terror. " If I do not get relief 
soon/' a lost man says, " I shall surely die." 
Full of this thought, he pushes on with all 
the strength he has left; but, as the hours 
and days pass away, his hope becomes 
weaker and weaker, and then, not finding 
the way, he is certain to fall down and die. 
How many have thus perished! Their 
bones strew the desert. Their frozen 
bodies, and portions of their clothing, are 
found in after years in the melting glacier, 
or they sink in the deep waters, to be the 
prey of the monsters of the deep. 

And this, too, is what gives such great 
anxiety to those who seek the lost. They 
know if the lost are not soon found they 
must die. Great is their danger, and great 
efforts must be made to save them. I 
knew of a mother who was seeking a little 



THE SON. 157 

boy and girl of hers whom she supposed 
were lost, and so great was her solicitude 
for them and desire to find them that 
those who were with her said it seemed as 
though she would go right through the 
stone walls which were across her way. 

So the danger of the sinner is very 
great, and if he remains lost he will soon 
perish. The Savior said to some about 
him, " Except ye repent ye shall all like- 
wise perish." To perish in one's sins — 
what a terrible thing is this! To be lost 
is bad enough, but to perish — ah, who 
shall tell fully what this means? The 
sinner stands on the brink of a precipice; 
he need only take one step more, and he 
falls down, down, down, far down into the 
abyss of woe and anguish, where hope 
never comes, and the blackness of dark- 
ness reigns for ever and ever. 



158 LOST AND FO UND. 

But he needs not perish. What blessed 
words are those which Jesus spoke, "The 
Son of man is come to seek and to save 
them that are lost!" How much Christ 
must have felt for a lost world, to leave 
the heavenly mansions and come to earth 
to suffer and die as he did for all who are 
in their sins ! He was rich, how rich ! in 
form, in glory, in honor, in power, in life ; but 
all these he laid aside, and became a poor 
babe, a poor youth, a poor man, hiding his 
glory, keeping back his power, giving up 
his honor, and laying down his life, to 
bring back the lost. 

And how many has the Good Shepherd 
saved! How many wandering sheep has 
he led back to the warm, well-supplied 
fold! How many little lambs has he 
taken in his bosom, and, carrying them 
tenderly along, placed them where they 



THE SON. 159 

are forever safe from all harm and from 
all evil. 

that Jesus may find you, my dear 
readers! Let him not go back from his 
seeking empty-handed. Be willing that 
he should lead you quietly along to the 
place of safety and peace! How danger- 
ous your lost condition, how full of peril, 
how near the world of despair ! Hear the 
voice of the Savior calling, calling as the 
morning sun arises to beautify the earth; 
calling, calling as the noonday heat spreads 
over the land; calling, calling as the sun 
gets low in the west, and the evening dew 
begins to fall, — still calling to the wander- 
ing one to turn to him, and, following his 
blessed footsteps, be restored to the joys 
of home. 



160 LOST AND FO UND. 



CHAPTER XI. 

And now, in conclusion, I will give two 
or three instances of persons being lost, 
and their wonderful deliverance. The first 
is that of a Methodist minister in Austra- 
lia — a strange, distant land. This minister 
started to go to a place in the mountains 
of the Upper Allyn, a place which was 
seldom visited by ministers, and in doing 
so thought he would attempt to take a 
short cut across the country. In doing 
this he lost his way. 

There had been a long-continued spell 
of dry weather, which now broke up, and 
it rained five days almost incessantly, and 
was so cloudy he never saw the sun once. 



THE SON. 161 

The minister lost his horse, and then 
wandered about endeavoring to get out of 
the thick bushes, but making no headway. 
He had nothing to eat for six days, and he 
suffered intensely. Sometimes he would 
dream that he was eating delicious victuals, 
and this made his sleep terrible; and worse 
yet was the waking, when he opened his 
eyes to see that all these dreams were only 
delusions. 

On the sixth day, the skin of his hands 
began to peel off, and he seemed to be 
sinking very fast. At every step, almost, 
he would halt and gasp for breath, and 
in writing about his dreadful condition 
he says: 

"How lonely, how unutterably lonely, 

should I have been without Christ ! With 

him I can not say I was lonely. A change 

was likely speedily to ensue; the coming 

ii 



162 LOST AND FO UND. 

night might make great alterations in my 
frame, and the morrow might find me pow- 
erless for motion. This I well knew, and 
in the midst of cold chills and gnawing 
hunger I gave myself to prayer. I was 
aware that death by starvation was a very 
painful and lingering death, preceded by 
fierce throes and convulsions; but I had 
seen men die terribly hard upon their beds, 
surrounded by all their friends could do 
for them. Would the wild dogs discover 
me and torment me when I became yet 
weaker? w T ould they tear my flesh and 
suck my blood before I died? Would de- 
lirium come, and should I say foolish and 
blasphemous things when reason left her 
throne? These and other inquiries were 
frequently on my mind, but they excited 
not the slightest perturbation or anxious 
thought. * Take no thought for the morrow/ 



THE SON. 163 

was an exhortation of my Savior which I 
received from him power to obey. 'As 
thy day, so shall thy strength be/ was a 
promise I fully believed. As to the wild 
dogs, I reflected that they were most cer- 
tainly under God's restraint, every one of 
them; and convulsions and throes I re- 
garded as also entirely subservient to his 
will. I thought of Christ's love, and the 
remembrance was blessed. I realized his 
mercy, and it was sweeter to me than 
honey or the honey-comb. Sunshine is 
never so glorious as when it pillows on the 
darkest cloud. I was probably about to 
die — my frame was sinking fast; but it 
was dying to live forever, and thus I felt 
it to be." 

While this minister of the Gospel was 
thus getting ready to die, he heard a voice 
at a great distance, and, rousing himself 



164 LOST AND FO UND. 

and summing up all his remaining energy, 
he called in reply. Whence came the 
voice, and who was it uttering it? 

It seems that many miles from where 
the dying missionary was there resided 
some good German people, and on this 
very day one of the young men felt that 
he must go out on a hunt. So he gathered 
a party, and prepared to start. His father 
endeavored to prevent him from going, and 
afterward said to the minister : 

"0 Mr. Vanderkiste, when we all 
thought Edward must be getting wrong in 
his head for insisting on going into the 
bush that day, little did we know what 
God Almighty had for him to do there." 

So these young men sallied forth for 
their hunt, little thinking that they were 
hunting a missionary. They rode all day, 
and toward night they saw some wild 



THE SON. 165 

cattle and chased them, but in their turn 
were chased by the cattle, and when they 
had distanced their ferocious pursuers they 
found that one of the party had become 
lost. They therefore went in the direction 
they supposed he was, calling out, Coo eyl 
coo eyl as the natives of Australia do in 
like circumstances, but still no response, 
till, after getting to the end of a mountain 
range, they called still more loudly, and 
thought they heard a response. Again 
they called, and again came the answering 
cry from the top of one of the mountains 
about two miles off. Two of the party 
began to ascend the mountain, though 
they knew it could not be their lost com- 
panion; yet they felt it must be some one 
lost, and that it was their duty to rescue 
him. When they reached the summit 
of the mountain, they saw an object in 



166 LOST AND FO Z7JVD. 

tattered clothes creeping toward them with 
what seemed to be a pistol in his hand, 
and thinking it might be a bushranger, who 
had allured them there to rob them and 
perhaps kill them, they retreated and were 
going to run off, when the cries seemed to 
be so full of distress that they returned, 
and found the man to be the lost missionary. 
There were a number of providential 
things in this finding of the minister. In 
the first place, this was the first day in 
which the great mountain streams created 
by the recent rains could be crossed for 
a week. In the next place, if one of 
these hunters had not been lost they 
would not have been led to the place 
where they found the minister. Then, 
if it had not been for the feeling in the 
mind of the young man who organized 
the party, that he must go a-hunting, they 



THE SON. 167 

never would have started. And then, 
most remarkable of all, the minister had 
been deaf for a part of two days, and had 
he continued so for an hour longer he 
would not have heard the voices of those 
who called. How wonderful is God's 
mercy to us, and how willing ought we 
to be to pray to such a merciful God in all 
hours of distress that we may be guided 
aright, and led in the way everlasting! 

The young men kindly took the poor, 
dying missionary in charge, and soon con- 
veyed him to a place of safety and com- 
fort. Finding he could not lie on the bed, 
he arose and sat by the fire through the 
night, and he says: 

"As I thus passed the hours of the 
night, its silence broken only by the notes 
of the cuckoo and the low utterances of 
the wind, I meditated on my marvelous 



168 LOST AND FO UNI). 

deliverance from death, and prayed ear- 
nestly that the Lord would be graciously 
pleased to make his care over me a bless- 
ing to others." 



THE SON. 169 



CHAPTER XII. 

The next story I will tell you is a 
beautiful illustration of the faith which 
may be possessed by a child. There were 
three young children of a Mr. and Mrs. 
Howley, who went out into the woods 
one Saturday to pick berries, without the 
knowledge of their parents, and wandered 
until they were lost. Not returning be- 
fore evening, their parents became very 
anxious about them, and, in company with 
about a hundred other persons, started off 
into the woods to hunt for them. After 
a long search, they at last succeeded in 
finding them. 

It seems that after having picked enough 



1 70 LOST AND FO UND. 

berries they thought it time to return 
home; but on turning about for that pur- 
pose they could not find the road, nor any 
way out of the woods. What should they 
do? They sat down on a log a long time, 
not knowing which way to turn, and were 
quite certain that they were lost. 

At last Mary, who was the oldest, said 
to the others : 

"Let us pray to God to help us to find 
our wav out." 

Then they all kneeled down, and, lifting 
up their hands to God, they prayed that 
they might be delivered. Then they took 
a new start, and soon found whortleberries 
plenty, and these they ate to satisfy their 
hunger. 

The little ones now commenced to call 
aloud the names of the different members 
of the family. 



THE SON 171 

Carrie was the youngest, and she said 
all the time, "I want some milk;" and 
then she said : 

" how tired I am ! I can 't go any 
further." 

So she sat down to rest. 

Ida was the next oldest, and she was so 
tired and sleepy that she said : 

"I had rather stay right here than to go 
another step. I can 't go any further. I 
must stay here and go to sleep." 

Mary then stripped the bark from off a 
dead tree, and laid it down on the ground. 
Then she got a lot of leaves together, and 
covered the bark for a pillow, and, making 
as good a bed as she could, she laid her 
two little sisters on the ground to sleep. 

The sun had gone down by this time, 
and it w r as getting dark, and Mary felt 
quite lonely. So she kneeled down again, 



172 LOST AND FOUND. 

and prayed to God that he would save 
them from being lost, and take care of 
them through the night if they had to 
stay there; and she thought it was quite 
likely that they would, as she had given 
up all hope of finding her way out. 

Mary was a thoughtful girl, and she 
knew that the night would be long, and 
that her little sisters would be very likely 
to wake up hungry in the morning. So 
she filled her pockets with winter-greens 
to pacify them, every few minutes calling 
on some of the members of the family. 

When these little children were found, 
the two youngest were quietly sleeping, 
and Mary, not yet ten years old, was 
upon her knees, praying to God for help 
in that hour of loneliness and distress. 

Whenever you are in distress or trouble, 
fail not to call on our Father in heaven, 



THE SON. 173 

who has promised to be a present help in 
time of trouble — yea, a very present help. 
Especially if you are lost to God by sin, 
let the prayer of your heart go up ear- 
nestly to God for deliverance, and he will 
certainly hear you. 

And now I have a story to give you, 
which I saw in one of our late Church 
papers. It is a very pleasing story about 
a little girl named Nelly : 

"A little girl one day had wandered far 
from her home in thoughtless play, and 
when the sun was getting low she could 
not tell which way to turn. As is very 
common in such a case, she took exactly 
the wrong course. The sun went down 
and the stars came out, and how the 
little girl sobbed when she thought of 
mother! How she would reach out her 
arms in her anguish, and call again and 



174 LOST AND FO UND. 

again for mother to come! but there was 
no voice to answer. how the mother's 
heart would have rejoiced if she could 
only have heard that cry! How she 
would have flown to gather her darling 
into her bosom! 

"But deeper grew the evening shades, 
and poor, lost Nelly felt she must spend 
the night in the wilds alone, all alone! 
How dreary and full of terror was the 
thought! But presently a familiar sound 
broke on her ear. It was the bleating of a 
little lamb, like her, belated and away from 
its mother's side. It was a very pleasant 
sound to her, and gave her fresh hope. It 
did not seem afraid or lost. It seemed to 
know which way it should go. So Nelly 
turned about, and resolved to follow it. 
She must run fast to keep up with the 
bounding footsteps of her little guide ; but 



THE SON. 175 

fear gave her wings. The lamb did not 
stop until it reached a fold where all the 
flock were sheltered, and then Nelly 
looked about and knew her own home 
surroundings. such a glad little girl 
as she was as she bounded up the steps, 
and rushed to her mother's arms, and was 
folded to her anxious heart! 

"The dear lamb was her guide, and 
brought her safely home. 

" Remember the Lamb that was slain, 
children, to bring you safe home to the 
heavenly fold. But if you do not follow 
that guide, all he has done will not avail 
you. Are you following in his footsteps? 
Are you drawing nearer to his heavenly 
home?" 

And if you feel that the Blessed Shep- 
herd is with you, wander no longer, poor, 
lone, sinning one; but with lowly heart 



176 LOST AND FO TJND. 

and penitent tears give thyself into the 
hands of the Savior of sinners. Then 
wilt thou sing with earnestness and tears 
the beautiful lines: 

I was a wandering sheep, 

I did not love the fold, 
I did not love my Savior's voice, 

I would not be con troll' d; 
I was a wayward child, 

I did not love my home, 
I did not love my Father's voice, 

I loved afar to roam. 

The Shepherd sought his sheep, 

The Father sought his child; 
They followed me o'er vale and hill, 

O'er deserts, waste and wild; 
They found me nigh to death, 

Famished and faint and lone; 
They bound me with the bands of love, 

They saved the wandering one. 



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